Sunny Disposition
by P.A.W.07
Summary: Sunstreaker is not known for his sunny character and was ignored wide and far for it, except for his brother. But Sides seems to have found a likewise heart leaving Sunny alone since everyone seems afraid of him. Well, almost everyone. G1. SS/BS Sunny/? Note: These chapters have been censored for this site. Links in author notes.
1. My Brother's Lover

Sunny Disposition: Sunstreaker is not known for his sunny character and was ignored wide and far for it, except for his brother. Yet, Sideswipe seems to have found a likewise heart, leaving Sunny alone because everyone is afraid of him. Well, almost everyone. Side/Blue, Sunny/?

Disclaimer: If only, if only, the little plot bunny sings.

Rating: Mature. Censored version of course. Please feel free to point out anything that might seem MA and I'll remove or revise it.

XXX

Chapter 1: My Brother's lover

…

I lost a lover to another

So I hated them with sweet demure

But then came a shadow from the gallows

And now I own my heart no more

…

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, they had always been together. One spark split in two. It is said that that a part of the spark did not wish to partake in the world of the living. It was happy in its confinement … the other half wished to taste the sun upon its flesh and share itself with all matters of hearts; so, one part of the spark stepped into the sun tearing itself from the dark while leaving its other half alone in the murky shadows, willing it to come into the glimmer of the sun. It is said that that moment of darkness crawls into the half left behind, and one of the sparklings forever feels abandoned in one way or another.

…

"Did you see that," yelled Sideswipe as he punched his brother in the shoulder, making the yellow twin growl and grab at his limb. "I think I made Thrust cry after I crashed him into Soundwave. Two 'Cons with one stone like they say."

"Don't scratch my paint," grumbled Sunstreaker as he punched his brother back.

"Please, how could you tell anyway? After Starscream plowed you into the ground there's almost no yellow paint left on you. Nice landing by the way. Graceful."

The yellow hellion growled his engine and brought a fist up, but before he could even slam his knuckles into his brother and start an all out brawl, someone called out, and Sideswipe flinched away.

"No brawls in my medical bay! The only one who causes damage in this room is me!" yelled Ratchet from his surgery across the room, optics become bright as he dared Sunstreaker to make another move. The front-liner pulled his fist down and leaned back against the wall as one of the walking injured. He was use to being blamed for all their brawls; he wouldn't let it get to him, he started most of them. Besides, he had grown accustomed to such things as he grew older. Yes, he knew that his fuse was short, and a smile rarely grazed his face if he wasn't about to tear someone a new one, but did that mean that he had to be blamed for all fights he was involved in?

Holding back a sigh, Sunstreaker tried not to let it get to him. That's just how things were. He was the second born, the unwilling, the half that wished to stay unborn. Yah, nobody said it out loud and least of all Sideswipe, but he was the reason that their spark wasn't compete … he was the reason neither twin could love anyone but each other. Looking to the floor, Sunstreaker blocked off his connection with his brother momentarily – the other twin seeming not to notice – and dwelled on that feeling. Before the battle, Sunstreaker found himself finally deciding to confront his brother. There had been something going on for a few months now; it almost felt like spite … for him. At first, the yellow hellion gave it little thought. Thinking it was merely just his brother being prissy about something, but as the days turned into months the feeling only grew despite Sideswipe's attempt to hide it. The red twin wanted something; he wanted something bad, and for some reason he was blaming the yellow titan for not having it.

At least that's what Sunstreaker's spark told him. It was vague though, and for the longest time the Autobot thought it paranoia. Until his brother just seemed to disappear, giving in to whatever it was that he wanted and leaving the yellow twin in the dark. Sunstreaker was doing his best to give his brother some room, thinking it just another lay his sibling was going to drag to their room to share … but that never came. Strange, that was what he thought the feeling was about. It seemed he was wrong, and he found his hands in fists more often than not as he struggled to remain calm on the subject. If he called his brother out on it … he at least had to know what it was.

"Sunstreaker! Stop standing there like a dead 'Con and get over to this berth. I'm not telling you again before I start dragging you!"

The yellow twin snapped out of his thoughts. A surprised look on his face, but when he noticed all the worried and estranged glances he was getting, he quickly put on a scowl. Then, taking a step forward, his arm brushed against Side's, silently asking for reassurance; the movement was not returned as it seemed that Sideswipe was distracted, his gaze directed toward the door and the departing mechs who were being cleared from the medical bay.

Sunstreaker didn't really get to question the loss of touch though when a new arm reached out and steadied him. Ratchet was practically glaring now, looking the front-liner up and down before stating, "Why the slag were you standing there the whole time, your hip strut his shattered?"

"It's not shattered," grumbled the younger bot. "I was walking fine."

"Can you even feel your leg … or haven't you noticed that there's energon pooling wherever your left ped steps down? There's energon seeping down the internals of your leg! On the berth, now! Walking injury my aft!" griped the medic as he grabbed his un-wanting patient around his waist and started walking him to the berth, making sure Sunny wouldn't put weight on his wound.

The next hour was full of wincing after Sunny got onto the berth, but his brother wasn't in much of a different predicament. Side's was wincing as well on the berth next to Sunny as First Aid knocked a huge dent out of the red mech; Thundercracker had kicked him in the chassis.

"Owh, a little gentler, Aid. I have a da … um, things to do tonight, and I don't want to be aching everywhere," said Sideswipe, picking up a Huffer-like tone.

"Sorry, Sideswipe. I just need to be a little rough," said the medic, stuttering slightly and still nervous with his work.

"Don't apologize to him, youngling. He was the fraggen fool that took on Thundercracker without backup," said Ratchet as he started to strip the metal of Sunny's leg. Generally, he'd just remove the whole leg, but the leg was still alive and could be saved. It wasn't worth wasting the materials to build a new one. Sunstreaker could just spend the night and be put on light duty for a few days.

The apprentice nodded, and then continued in his work, Sideswipe wincing. Sunstreaker quickly bit back a yelp that threatened to escape him. He knew that if he whimpered and whined too much, Ratchet would weld him to the berth. He needed to reenact his bond with his brother, and it wasn't that he was horny – maybe a little – but the bond felt weak, and Sideswipe _was_ hiding something. A joining of sparks would tell him what his brother was hiding. True, it wasn't unlike Sides to keep things from him, but never this long. A good bonding session would allow Sunstreaker a glimpse at what Side's was thinking … and right now he could feel his brother was wanting some loving. Sideswipe was probably going to find some unsuspecting fagger to drag into his berth, and Sunstreaker was going to share … like usual. He needed to know what was going on. He need too –

"Ehhuh!" gasped Sunstreaker, his mind so foggy he couldn't bite back the stuttering of his vents or the pained sound. Ratchet immediately stopped, eyeing him. Frag. He needed to get out tonight. He needed to know that his brother wasn't leaving him behind … not again, not to the dark.

"I-I'm fine," said Sunstreaker a little to rushed, gaining a worried look from Ratchet and his brother.

"Sure you are," grumbled the medic. "Let me get a sedative. You are going to spend the night. That leg's worse than I thought it was."

"B-but, Ratchet," said the yellow twin, trying to protest.

"Don't worry, bro," said Sideswipe as First Aid closed his chassis, his feet making a clang as he jumped off the berth and walked over to his brother's berth. "I'll check on you in the morning to make sure Ratchet hasn't turned you into a toaster."

"Talk to you in the morning," said the red twin, patting Sunny on the shoulder. Hurriedly, a yellow hand tried to grasp at his parting twin, for comfort before Ratchet put him out like a light. But, just as fingers tried to grace his brother's hand, the red hand drew away from his by mere inches, and Sideswipe started to walk away … with a grin on his face, a wave of joy making itself through the bond unknowingly. Sunstreaker optics widened. W-why was his brother happy? He was injured? Wasn't he supposed to feel worried about him?

H-had he felt … alone. It was as if Sideswipe had better things to do … better things than Sunny. Primus, Sunstreaker couldn't even remember the last time the two of them had had a brawl or played a video game. Don't even get him started on bonding. Now, unlike other mechs that did it for the pleasure alone, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had to bond in order to keep their sparks stable. True, they necessarily didn't have to stabilize their sparks with each other so it was not uncommon for Sideswipe to drag a victim in their quarters to 'share'. Speaking of which, they hadn't done that in a while either, and there were even new mechs for them to play with. Part of Sunstreaker had wondered if his brother was mad at him, but that didn't seem like it and his brother's current actions weren't agreeing with it; he had merely been … forgotten.

"Sunstreaker," Ratchet suddenly got into the view of Sideswipe's parting back. "Is something wrong? You're spark just skipped a beat?"

"No," said the yellow soldier as his reaching arm was pressed against the berth, swallowing his rising sorrow. "Nothing. Just put me under and get it over with."

Ratchet still looked worried, but merely nodded, putting one of his warm hands against Sunstreaker's neck, using his thumb to move Sunstreaker's chin to the side so it would reveal his neck cables better. With the ease that came with being an old medic, he had stabbed the needle in, pulled it out, and only left a drop of energon as proof that the piercing object had been there. Darkness came like a kiss upon the brow, soft and caring.

XXX

"Sunstreaker?"

"Sunstreaker? Can you hear me?"

"Sunstreaker," said Ratchet as he waved his hand in front of the warrior's face, the mech's optics slowly coming on. "Can you compute what I'm saying?"

"Yah," choked the yellow mech as he shifted on the berth a little, wincing as he felt the stiffness of his leg, "I can hear you Ratch'. What time is it?"

"Near two in the morning. I'm going into recharge. You can stay here for the night or go to your room. And don't you dare go to the rec. room and try to catch the end of the party. I will know and kick your aft in the morning. Don't transform and keep weight off it for the next three days; I don't care if it makes you any less beautiful to limp," grumbled the medic as he wiped his hands in a rag before stepping away to allow the mech some room to sit up.

Sunny shook his head and automatically turned his head to the right, expecting his brother to be sitting on the berth next to his with a silly grin. A frown quickly formed on his face when … he saw no one was there. No, this was wrong. Sideswipe was always there, always waiting after he had surgery. That was how it was. He'd wait for his brother and his brother would wait for him. Afterwards, one brother would take the other to their room, and then they'd hold each other on the berth where no one could see … glad the other one was still alive.

W-why wasn't his brother here?

Suddenly, as if feeling the yellow hellion's sorrow, Ratchet stepped into his sights, a worried look on the medic's face, "Is there something wrong?

Choking back a click of misery, Sunstreaker brought his hand up to his face and wiped it down, shaking his head as he stated, "No, Ratchet. I just want to go to my berth."

The medic continued to frown, but nodded his head, using his hands to signal Sunstreaker to scoot his aft to the edge of the berth so he could check the repairs, "Okay, put your leg out and press against my locked fingers until they break or you start feeling sharp pains."

Sunstreaker did as he was told, placing his foot in the cupped hands. Then he started to push. He nearly jumped out of his armor, but continued despite the sudden sharp pains. Sideswipe's part of the spark was warm, hot, and happy. He wanted to know why. He knew it had something to do with why his sibling wasn't here right now, offering silent comfort with his mere presence. He wanted whatever it was … gone. End of story.

Finally, a hiss escaped him, and Ratchet pulled away, grabbing the twin's leg and easing it down. He grumbled something to himself, and then stated simply, " Alright, now turn over on your good hip so I can see how far I can bend your knee before it stresses the strut. Tell me if you feel any sharp pains; an ache is normal."

A grunt was all the CMO received in reply as the yellow mech turned on his side. Ratchet then proceeded to take the knee into his hand, moving the leg in different positions. _An ache huh? Was an ache supposed to feel like his leg was being ripped off?_

"So," said the medic, not stopping in his work. "What's up with you and Sideswipe? You two have another fight?"

_Always straight to the point, huh_? Sunstreaker really hated that about the Hatchet. It was as if he could read minds and that bothered him to no end sometimes. Sighing, the twin gingerly replied, "No."

"Then what's bothering you two? It was hard not to notice that both of you are acting strange," added Ratchet in a careful tone. Of the two twins, Sunstreaker was the one to be careful with. Many thought with him being such a mean aft that he could take anything … the truth was, Sunny's emotions were much more easily bruised. He just buried them beneath a cold glare and sought comfort in his brother's spark. Ratchet knew … because Sideswipe had told him. And ever since then he had kept an eye on the yellow twin. As they said, madness was like gravity; all you need is one good shove and one would fall. Sometimes Ratchet worried that if Sideswipe wasn't around Sunstreaker would fall. If Sideswipe died … Sunstreaker would follow after. If Sunstreaker died, Sideswipe would morn him, fall into a depression for a few vorns, and live on. Sunstreaker worried him.

"I don't know … Sideswipe's the one acting funny," grumbled the yellow mech, not looking up at his current caretaker. "It's nothing."

Ratchet stared for a moment, noting a wince he got from his patience. Well, that had been easier to pull out of the usual cold and distant mech then he thought it would be … which was not a good thing. It meant that Sunstreaker was dwelling on this far too much and that he was reaching the end of his patience. Ratchet nodded, letting go of the leg and heading to the hip where he rubbed it for a moment, knowing it must be sore.

"Are you sure it's nothing? Do you want to talk about it, because it means more than nothing to you it seems," said Ratchet allowing the twin sit up, but placing an hand on either side of him so the yellow mech was trapped on the berth.

Sunstreaker still refused to look at him, but his hands becoming fists told the medic all he needed to know at the moment. That was all there was to be told … at least right now.

Knowing that he had reached his limit, Ratchet pulled away and nodded, "Alright, but you know I'll be here to listen if you want to talk about it … Plus, I can always _make_ you take your psych evaluation early if it gets too out of hand. Now get out of my med bay and keep weight off that."

The halls echoed with Sunstreaker's feet. He had taken it slow getting back to his room, because part of him didn't want to fight with his brother. Sideswipe was just letting off waves of happiness, unguarded; probably because he didn't know that Sunny was awake. Sunstreaker tightened his fists, blocking his part of the bond as a rage started to seep into him. His brother was happier ignoring him! H-how could he?

A grimace reaching his lips, Sunstreaker was about to start running down the halls towards their room, ignoring Ratchet's threat. He was going to demand what the hell was going on, or he was going to beat it out of his sibling, but before he could do more than feel his engine heat up in rage … voices floated down the hall. He was just going to rush forward, and if they didn't get out of his way he'd run them down … but then he realized who the voices belonged too. For a moment, he thought about rushing forward and getting into his brother's face, but stalled. Before Sunstreaker could stop himself, he was hidden around a nearby corner. The front liner's optics quickly dulling so they would not give him away as he listened to his brother, hiding his spark signature from the only other mech he had ever truly loved.

"You sure it's okay? Going to Sunstreaker and your room, because you still haven't talk to Sunstreaker about us, have you? It's not that I don't like your brother; he's always been good to me. I just don't think he'll understand, and I want him to understand and known, but I don't want him to be mad. I hate seeing your brother mad. He always seems upset, and I'd hate to see him upset, because if he's upset, you are upset, and I don't think I can …"

There was a soft clang of metal, and a soft chuckling – probably over energized - as the talking immediately stopped, his brother's voice ringing through Sunny's audios, "Calm down, Blue. Hick. You're acting like our relationship is a dirty secret. It just has to remain … underground. Not that I'm ashamed of it or anything. Hick. It's just that Sunstreaker hasn't reacted well to some of my private relationships in the past. He kind of takes it to spark the whole 'us against the world' motto, you know. Hick. He thinks that other mechs and femmes are just there for us to share, and you known … not a real relationship."

Then there was a purring noise, and the soft rustle of metal on metal.

"N-not in the middle of the hall! Now, come on. Tell me straight, because I know you're not ashamed of me, but … I need to know. Do you not want to make our relationship known … because of Sunny? Tell me … Sunstreaker doesn't want me around, does he?" whispered Bluestreak, his voice aching.

"No, no! It's just that Sunstreaker has … problems creating his own relationships. Don't say anything to anyone … but … Sunstreaker's never interfaced … alone, without me. H-he's never been in love with anyone or had a relationship of his own. I can't just move out until I'm sure he'll be okay," stated Sideswipe, his voice soft and hushed.

A little surprised gasp escaped Bluestreak, and Sunstreaker's hand landed on his chassis, betrayal suddenly running through his systems like fire. H-how could his brother just tell someone that? It was their personal secret. It was almost as if his brother has just blurted out to the entire base that Sunstreaker was some kind of virgin and that they should be gentle with him with him since he was inexperienced. H-how could he? Why would Sideswipe just tell that little slagger something so personal? It wasn't like the gunner was his l-lover.

A shallow gasp pulled through Sunstreaker's vents. That happiness he had been feeling … wasn't happiness. Sideswipe was in love, and Sunstreaker was just in the way.

"You should have told me," whispered the gunner, voiceless for once. "I-I'll try to take it slower."

"Thanks," was a soft warm hushed voice, "but not too slow," he said in a husky deep voice, "come on … we have the room all to ourselves tonight … let's play."

There was more drunk giggling, and a small moan from the younger mech. The door then swung open a few doors down to Side's and Sunny's room, a clang allowed in the dim hall meaning that they had managed to get to the berth before the door shut. Sunstreaker, ignoring his leg, stormed forward ready to slam open that door and beat the slag out of his brother … yet as he neared the door he heard panting, rushed vents, long dragging moans, and one thing over and over again in Sideswipe's voice.

"I love you. I love you, Blue. Only you. "

XXX

Sunstreaker had wandered the halls after that. There was a strange emotion in his chest. Yes, rage was there, but there was something else. Something he hadn't felt in ages. He hadn't felt this parasite on his spark since he was a sparkling, clinging to Sideswipe in the dead of night because of it … sorrow. When he grew older, he had promised himself he would never feel that helpless ever again. He would be nobody's victim, he would feel no sorrow. Yet here he was, now in the armory, his leg aching far too much to go on. He told himself he was merely in here because it was conventional at the time, but the truth was … he was hiding. He was like a wounded animal hiding in a dark corner.

And there he remained, trying to decide what to do. In the end, unable to recharge, he pulled himself and his aching leg up, heading out. So his brother didn't want him around anymore, did he? Well, he wasn't going to give him or his sex-toy the satisfaction of throwing him out of their lives. He'd throw them out and be done with it.

XXX

Now … this was interesting. His CPU was still trying to decide if this was a bad or good thing. Either, Sunstreaker was finally taking him serious or something bad had happened. He was leaning towards bad. After all, why else were the twins ever in his office? Prowl sighed, his wings dipping as he looked at the yellow mech that was leaned against the wall by his door, sleeping upright. Yah, it had to be bad. Why else would someone put their back through that hell?

Leaning down on one knee, the Second in Command shook Sunstreaker, the mech jolting away, eyes searching in a panic until he met optics with Prowl. His surprised expression was quickly replaced with his usual cold expression.

"Sunstreaker? Is there something wrong? I thought you were supposed to spend the night in the medical bay … not the hall," added the tactician as he looked the yellow mech up and down with a scrutinizing gaze.

Sunny tried to blink away the last few moments of recharge before he pushed away the worried hand on his shoulder, using the wall and not his leg to push himself upward. "Ratchet said I could go. I also just wanted to see where you were putting me on the schedule for light-duty."

Prowl still started at the other, nodded, and then got up, opening his office door. He wanted to help Sunny forward due to the limp, but thought it unwise. Sunstreaker was always proud and wouldn't accept the help anyway.

"Please take seat," said the enforcer, when Sunstreaker limped in. The yellow mech did so, his teeth bearing as he sat down, obviously in pain. Prowl stared for a moment before taking a seat himself. "So, are you really here for a no-duty request? If you are in more pain then Ratchet thought, I'm sure he'll change it for you. We don't need you suffering through monitor duty."

Sunny frowned at the straightforwardness, "I'm not in pain, just a bit stiff. Rough night. So, can I see that schedule?"

Prowl's cold gaze continued, but he gave the data pad to the mech despite that. He was going to email them to all the men this morning, but since Sunny was in here he probably wanted something changed. Not that Prowl was going to disagree. Sunny needed rest and was in pain. Prowl might take him off the roadster anyway, despite whatever the yellow mech before him might request.

"Alright, can I change these with Blaster and this one with Red Alert?" said Sunny, still cold as ever despite the fact that Prowl noticed the pained drag in his voice. Was the injury really that bad? Should he comm. Ratchet?

"How about I take you off completely?" said Prowl, eyeing him.

"No!" it was growled, it was demanded, and harsh. Sunny's optics even got wide after he had said it. "I mean … I mean … I just need …"

"What's this really about?" said Prowl, eyeing the schedule that Sunny requested. Was he having problems with Sideswipe? It seemed that the days Prowl had specially scheduled so they could be together, were moved. Now why was that? Were those two fighting, again?

"I need a room change. Now."

And there is was. Primus, this was going to be one of _those_ weeks, wasn't it?

XXX

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	2. Constant Failures

Chapter 2: Constant Failures

XXX

Sunstreaker sat there, staring at the collection of solar-guns hanging on the wall, his hand unknowingly gripping his injured leg. It had been over about three days since he had last seen his brother, or slept in a berth. Prowl, surprisingly, had allowed him everything he asked … but also said it would take a few days for him to get him a new room. The front-liner knew the tactician was probably thinking it was just one of his brother and his spats and in a few days they'd both be over it.

He was wrong, and Sunny was more than thrilled that he was getting his new room today. At this point, he didn't care if he had to room with Huffer … anything was better than sleeping wherever he could find a seclude place in the Ark. He had slept in closets, weapon's rooms, training rooms, the rec. room's couch; you name it. His leg couldn't take much more of his terrible sleeping habits and someone always seemed to interrupt him during his recharge cycles; not wanting to gain any unwanted attention during these times or be personally walked to his _brother's_ quarters, Sunstreaker would merely stated that he had fallen into sleep mode and limp off. He ignored embarrassing moments like that for the most part though. That was because the best place seemed to be the armory. No one went in there in the middle of the night, and if an alarm went off Sunny would wake up and make it look like he was gun-ho.

That theory wasn't completely perfect, though. It seemed that there was someone who did go into the weapons room in the middle of the night. Sunny, being in so much pain with his leg and so tired, didn't even hear the swish of the door nor the red mech that stepped inside.

Ironhide stood there a moment, gun in hand and ready to be put back on the shelf after his late night practicing. For a minute, he had thought it was a corpse that had been stuck in the room as some enemy wandered the halls. But he heard a soft sigh of vents and couldn't help but state, "Now what the slag are you doing in here, Sunstreaker?"

And that was how Sunny came to be on one of the med-bay berths, he supposed as he stared at the nearly blinding florescent lights above his head. He didn't remember much except Ironhide poking him and asking if he was okay. He must have seemed injured last night, not that he wasn't in pain. His leg was killing him … which Ratchet seemed to know and had been waiting for like some kind of haggard crow. Sometimes Sunstreaker secretly wondered if the medic could read minds like Soundwave.

"You slaggen idiot. No wonder you are in pain! Sleeping upright!" gripped the medic as he wandered back and forth across the medical bay, putting tools away.

"I never said I was in pain," grumbled the twin dryly as he continued to look up at the ceiling tiles.

"Slag you aren't! I heard those dry little whimpers last night when Ironhide dragged you in here," growled the medic as he started to walk to the other side of the medical bay, not stalling in his work.

"Did not. Weren't you asleep, anyway?" grumbled the twin as he tried to offline his optics and get some more rest.

Ratchet just continued to ramble though, and the twin placed his hand over his optics. His head was starting to pound. He couldn't take much more of this. In fact, he wouldn't. His engine whining, Sunstreaker sat up on his berth and glared at the ranting medic. Well, it was morning he supposed. Why not just get up? He wasn't going to get anymore recharge anyway.

There was a soft clang as his feet hit the floor, the ranting went silent as Sunstreaker stood up straight and started to walk towards the exit.

"Where do you think you're going?" came the voice of the medic. "I haven't cleared you yet."

"Bite me, Ratchet. The only reason I was even in here was because I thought I was going to get some rest. Since I'm not, I just as wells get ready for my next shift," grumble the yellow hellion, not even bothering to look backwards at the being he was talking too.

Strangely, Ratchet was silent during the limping mech's slow journey to the door, yet just before the Lamborghini was about to open to door, a soft voice carried over the echoing room, "You know … you can't ignore Sideswipe forever. Hurting your health isn't going to hold that off."

Sunstreaker had not stilled his movements long enough to throw a cold, knowing, glare back at the old mech. Nonetheless, he said nothing. If it was up to him he'd never see his brother again, having the slagger transferred somewhere with his _precious_ lover sounded like a good plan to him.

It would seem that fate did not share Sunstreaker's opinion of never confronting his brother, being the cruel cackling mistress that she was. But at least the golden warrior had been able to hold off the confrontation for a few more hours. He had even managed to ignore his brother by hiding in a closet momentarily, but now with a cube of high grade in his hand … the twin forgot his shame and only remembered pain.

"Hey, Sunny," came a cry through the rec. room, hurried feet coming over to him. The yellow soldier merely continued to down his high grade, barely noting that his brother had sat down across from him and had tried to curl his hand around Sunstreaker's hand. Sunny made it look like he was merely downing another swig of his high grade as he moved his hand, ignoring his sibling's touch.

"I've been looking all over for you all morning," continued Sideswipe, his vents catching as his fingers curled into his palm like rejected branches.

Sunstreaker wasn't surprised that Sideswipe hadn't started looking for him until this morning. After all, sometimes Sunny would sometimes stay in the medical bay days longer than originally said due to his obnoxious attitude: Ratchet continually knocking him unconscious. Then there was the fact that their new schedules meant that they wouldn't be running into each other for the week. Either way, it confirmed his theory that his brother no longer needed him. Even if Ratchet had been continually knocking him out for the past few days, Sideswipe would still check on him … that is, he would have before Bluestreak came into the picture. The picture he was quickly being cut out of.

Sideswipe hadn't thought anything of his brother's disappearance. In truth, he was a bit relieved to have some time with Bluestreak. He had popped the younger mech's cherry – as the humans would say – and Bluestreak was insatiable since then. That wasn't the only thing Side's wanted with some extra time either; it was nice to cuddle with Bluestreak, the smaller gunner seeming to fit into the grooves of his form perfectly. But this morning, when he woke up with Bluestreak beside him, something felt wrong … something had been missing. Sideswipe had panicked at first when he realized he couldn't feel his brother. He had thought Sunstreaker was hurt … or worse … and had practically knocked the med bay door down looking for his brother. It took a few minutes for Ratchet to calm him down and state that his twin wasn't dead and had gotten out of his surgery just fine … three days ago. It didn't take Sideswipe a sparse second to conclude that his brother wasn't dead somewhere, but in fact, couldn't be felt through the bond because Sunstreaker was pissed. Frag.

"Where have you been," continued Sideswipe, feeling a bit hurt that he couldn't touch his brother, but knew better than to try and force it; he didn't need Sunny getting violent right now.

"When I woke up this morning I could barely feel you through the bond and when I went to Ratchet, he said you were in this morning … but you got out _three_ days ago. Where have you been? A-are you mad at me?" added Sideswipe nervously. Three days ago … he had been with Bluestreak that night. Hopefully, his brother hadn't noticed anything since their schedules were opposing, but he doubted that. Sunny would have wanted to share or thrown a full-out fit.

Yes, Sunstreaker was mad. He was madder than the pit, and he could just feel the glass of the cube in his hand shiver as it started to crack under his angry grasp. He wanted to start a brawl, strike out in rage, but for some reason another emotion was devouring that rage before it could consume him … loneliness and its companion, sorrow. In truth … he wanted to scream and cry, yelling out the question 'why'. Instead, he could only whisper in a bitter tone, "Do I have something to be mad about, Sideswipe? It's not like you're hiding anything, are you?"

Sideswipe seemed to physically wilt … this was not about forgetting a simple bonding session. H-he knew about Bluestreak. Swallowing, Sideswipe tried to push into the bond with comforting and regretful emotions … only to slam into a brick wall. Drawing back with a slight hiss, the red mech knew he was in deep slag. He quickly looked around nervously hoping no one had noticed the rising tension. He might be in slag with Sunny, didn't mean he had to drag Bluestreak down with him.

Leaning forward and wanting to discuss this in more controlled conditions, Sideswipe stated, "Come on, Sunny. Let's talk about this someplace more … private."

"Private," whispered Sunstreaker, his rage finally winning over his sorrow as he recalled how Sideswipe mentioned to Bluestreak as to why their relationship had to remain under cover … it was because of him. Time to end this charade, let there be rage!

"Private!" growled the yellow mech as he rose to his feet, the bench slamming against the floor from his sudden movement, the cube smashing to pieces in his fist. "No! I think everyone deserves to know. After all, I'd hate for me or anyone else to get in the way of your new relationship!"

Sideswipe's optics nearly went white and he quickly rose as well, his hand out, "Now, calm down Sunstreaker. Let's take this to our room so we can talk about this."

"Our room? No, you mean _your_ room and that … that slaggen sparkling you're fucking!" growled Sunny as he took a step forward, hands pulled into fists, and engine hissing.

A small whine escaped the red Lamborghini's engine at the insult and before he could stop himself, Sideswipe found himself rising in defense of his new lover like a tide ready to drown a fire on the beach. "Bluestreak is not a sparkling! How dare you say that about him!"

The whole break room was silent now, every pair of optics on the two feuding brothers.

"Please! He's almost the same age as Bumblebee! He's probably only been in his adult proto-form for a vorn. What? Did you abandon your brother so you could pop the virgin's cherry!" yelled the yellow hellion, his voice seeming to echo the word 'virgin' throughout the room and into the hall.

Sideswipe was silent for a moment as if calculating the coldest, harshest, thing he could, "Tuh, look who's talking? You're still more a virgin than Bluestreak was. You've never even had a berth mate without me giving him to you … still scared of new experiences … still scared of life like the rejected half of the spark you are!"

Sunstreaker's optics got wide and he took a step back, his gaze immediately falling on the mechs around them as if noticing them for the first time. The whole rec. room was looking at him, not Sideswipe. They were looking at him; mouths open in shock, judging him. Sunstreaker shook his head, his anger being replaced by shame and disgust … in himself. Before he knew it, he took a step away from his brother with his mouth hung open. Sideswipe had just … he had just … h-he just had to get out.

Before Sideswipe could properly realize what he had just done, he felt it through the bond: pain, hurt, shame, and regret. Things Sunny rarely felt … but always looked to Sideswipe to wash away when he did feel such things. Sideswipe was meant to banish such feelings from his brother, not to create those emotions.

Feeling his tank churn, Sideswipe shook his head and slowly reached for his brother, his words soft, "S-sunny … I didn't mean to say that … I-it was an accident."

Sunstreaker shook his head, his words angry and pained at the same time, "There … you said it. You're relationship is no longer a secret … so now you can get out of my life … and me out of yours. Don't let the defect get between you and your _precious_ lover."

The words were so soft, so pained, that the tone was more shocking that the words itself. He hadn't heard Sunstreaker use that tone since they had been very young … long before the war. It was the tone used when Sunny would still cling to him … when Sunstreaker could still cry.

Swallowing the sick feeling, Sideswipe took a step forward, ready to spring forward and pull his brother into an embrace. He hadn't meant it like that. But, before his fingers could even grace his brother's golden paint, Sunstreaker was pulling back his arm. A short cry and the crinkle of glass filled the silent room, and then there was a disturbing echo, a body falling to the floor and griping its face. Sunstreaker just stood there, watching his brother as the anger boiled with so many other emotions like a witch's brew. Then, before anyone could interfere, the golden warrior was transforming. The frontliner's tires drowned out his brother's dry sob as Sideswipe sat up, removing his hands, energon running down his face from his cracked optic.

Sideswipe quickly got to his shaky feet and was about to race after the escaping blur of yellow when Ironhide stepped in front of him, grabbing him by the elbow. The elder mech steadied him before he fell straight on his face.

"Woh, there kid. You're not going anywhere but to Ratchet. And I think you should let Sunshine cool off," said the red mech, his grip tight.

"B-but … I can't leave him like that!" cried Sideswipe, an arm coming up to rest over his dripping optic.

"Don't worry, man," said Jazz as he rose from his seat, running for the exit. "I'll go talk to him."

Sideswipe just continued to look longingly at the exit as Ironhide detoured him towards the medical bay, "Come on, Kid. I think we need to talk."

XXX

"See, mighty Megatron. The whole idea was preposterous anyway. I know fleshlings are dumb, but even they wouldn't put a field of solar panels out in this Primus forsaken place."

Megatron bit back a wave of rage as Starscream's voice echoed over the desert plain, adding to his already growing irritation, but he continued to look outwards at the rolling sands of the American desert. The truth was … things were not going well on Earth lately. It was something he had tried to ignore and push aside, his thirst for battle and destruction driving him onward. But, in the quiet of his quarters, his logic centers caught up with him.

This was a losing battle for Earth's energy. Not that he considered his soldiers' weaklings or himself a coward. The truth was, as he watched the sharks fight outside the Nemesis from his chamber throne; he was expending more resources than he was collecting. Every mission to collect energon for the restoration of Cybertron was a battle, and by the time they collected the energy they could his warriors had nearly burned more energy than they had collected.

The Decepticons were slowly losing the war. It was as if the restoration of Cybertron was now more a burden than a want. His men were tired, hungry, and being slowly worn down due to energon rationing. The Decepticons were slowly starving because there were too many sharks fighting for the same resources: the Autobots, the humans, Cybertron's resurrection, and finally them.

"This planet is waste of time. We are falling behind here more than succeeding because you can't kill Optimus Prime. In the past, when I would pick the planet, we never had to fight the Autobots during every single collection for energon!" said Starscream, following behind his master.

Megatron continued to try and ignore the griping mech. He had decided to try a new tactic in collecting the vital resource. He had been attacking large energy stations with a large number of soldiers, but why not small have a small number of soldiers steal from a small energy source more often? If it worked the war might turn back into his favor … if it did not … he didn't want to think about it. It seems that Starscream was thinking it for him though … and he'd taken all he was going to take of that flier's mouth.

"The Decepticon's are going to perish due to your bad leadership-sckeeek!"

Starscream was only allowed a pathetic squeak as his leader turned his rage on him, a hand around the Seeker' neck as he rose into the air, feet hanging.

"Starscream, if you value your ability to speak," sneered the tyrant in a cold tone as his grip tightened, making the metal squeak. "You will shut off your vocals and go do something useful: such as finding that solar energy farm."

The flier merely choked, gripping at the hand around his neck. Starscream knew that thrashing would be a useless endeavor. Such action would gain him a harsher punishment … one that probably involved his wings. It was not a terribly well kept secret, but the loss of a flying mechs' wings could cause something simply dubbed Sky-Madness. Megatron had done it to him once, just to watch him squirm. He had ripped off the SIC's wings, patch him up like some kind of groundling, and kept him on-duty in the command center. The first day or so had been … bearable. The Seeker had twitched from time to time, but managed to do his job. That did not last. Soon he was all out shaking like a drug addict going through detox. Megatron didn't even make a snide comment or mocking remark at the flier's flying condition … he just sat in his thrown and watched like some kind of stone guard dog. Starscream then degraded from that point. It started with little things, touching another flier's wings almost longingly as he passed them in the halls, staring at fliers in the lunchroom with almost a stalker's intent, daydreams of ripping off another wings and welding them on as if they were his own. The only thing that dissuaded such impulses was when he'd also stare out at the sky in his spare time, longingly.

That was just foreplay, full blown madness followed after. He soon found himself on his knees before the tyrant, arms wrapped around one of the lord's legs as he begged, pleaded and cried out in agony for his wings. He was denied time and time again. It didn't take him long to become delusional, small voices in the back of his head telling him he could indeed fly … without wings or that it would be easy to murder another flier and take their wings. In the end, to everyone but Starscream, it looked like he jumped off the tower to commit suicide. Starscream had been positive that he could fly. So, after the flier was repaired and strapped to a table, Megatron decided that that was enough and had the Seeker's wings replaced ... those days after Starscream remember the most. His spark was screaming to the sky … but he was strapped to the berth, his wings healing, and Megatron sneering with a warning look.

Starscream never forgot that punishment … nor how effective it was. He was a prime example of a SIC for a long time after that … for a while at least, but he was in no mood to relive such a horrific experience. So it was with a shivering voice he choked, "Yes, Megatron."

The silver tyrant smiled, letting go of Starscream. The flier could only cough as he was dropped into the sands, the dust rising up around him like a cloud.

"That's a good Seeker. Now keep a low profile and if you see an Autobot, especially a lone one, take him out as quickly and quietly as possible. We don't need them catching on to my newest plan so soon," said the silver mech.

"Of course … my lord. If I see any Auto-scum alone, he'll be dead before he can even activate his com. link."

XXX

**Paw07: No edits here. Not bothering with a link for this chapter than. **


	3. Unexpected Lover

Chapter 3: Unexpected Lovers

XXX

Jazz was no tracker but he was no fool – he wasn't a saboteur for nothing – so it wasn't terribly difficult to follow the enraged and hurt Sunstreaker's tracks even though he had been following him for nearly half a day. He was presently plowing through the desert, the sand flowing after like a cloud of smoke. Jazz was rather surprised to even be here in the smoldering desert area. For one, Sunstreaker was still going pushing himself onward even though the younger bot had to be exhausted by now and also because the yellow mech was generally to vain to even allow a trace of dust on his well kept coat. Not that the saboteur was going to deny that… Sunstreaker was very good looking but his spark seemed so cold. Jazz at least knew why now. A feeling of betrayal buried that deep and so young would make it hard for any mech to trust … to love.

Sighing came from the saboteur; who knew how far the truth had been spread amongst the busy bodies on the Ark, not that Jazz was a saint, but he still felt bad for the younger mech. Burying that thought as quickly as he could, Jazz picked up speed. He had just had a cold feeling grip at his engine. It was as if something was watching him … and backup was nowhere nearby.

Off in the distance, perched on a large rock body like a hungry crow, Starscream watched the saboteur. He was still slightly enraged by the callous way Megatron had commanded him hours ago and now had a perfect way to burn off some of the heat of his rage.

Rising to his feet, optics glinting, Starscream smirked, "The only good Autobot is a dead Autobot. I'll crush the life out of him… just like I will to Megatron."

XXX

Elsewhere, Megatron sneezed. The larger mech filters seemed to rattle in his very vents at the strength of it, but he could only stand there a minute, wondering if it would happen again like it usually did. It didn't and the tyrant grumbled about constantly seizing vents and made a mental note to have Hook check over his systems when he got back even though the medic never did seem to find anything. Besides, he had better things to do than worry about sand grains in his ventilation systems. He had found what he was looking for with its silver plates glaring up at the sky … as well as something else.

The Warlord's satisfied expression turned to a frown quickly as he caught a glimpse of a cloud of dust on the horizon. It was hard not to note that it was an Autobot. With a growl of his engine, Megatron got lower to the sands and masked his energy signal as much as he could.

Slag. Slag. SLAG!

He had been sure that this plan would work, that he could turn this war around. Yet, here was this brightly colored child coming to rat him out. Optimus and the others probably were soon to follow if he didn't do something quickly.

He wasn't a supporter of abortion but some sparklings were just meant to die. Case in point, this yellow mech now in his shooting range. True, maybe this Autobot wasn't a sparkling but he was one compared to how long the tyrant had existed.

…

He still didn't understand it. He just had to get away. Why had his brother abandoned and betrayed his secret for a mere child? Yes, a child. Bluestreak was inexperienced and barely out of his youngling form. Why would Side's leave him for someone so … inexperienced? It couldn't be love? His brother was supposed to love him.

Well, that had been disproven he supposed. No twin, even if one knew, would ever reveal which one had been abandoned for it was both their shame: to abandon one's sibling was unforgivable and to be the defect was a disgrace. It was true though that the defect was far more disgusting to be around than the abandoner.

Sunstreaker – just as he was about to slow – pushed himself harder, ignoring the ping of his comm. link again. It was probably his brother or one of the higher officers, most likely his brother.

What did he care?

His brother wasn't supposed to love him anymore now that he had Bluestreak… no one was supposed. His brother had merely loved him in obligation because, after all, they needed to fuse their sparks a few times a vorn or both their half sparks would become unstable and they'd die. That was when they were children though and all they had was each other. New lovers could easily fulfill that purpose now that they were older. Sideswipe now longer needed him… he was a waste of space, an old tool no longer needed.

Part of him wanted to stop and weep in this hot dusty place for he knew nothing but the sand would witness his misery yet, just as he was about to start breaking, and give into his misery… he heard the shot fired and could do nothing but scream out in agony and surprise as his front right tire was shot out.

The seconds that followed were a blur. He remembered the sand being thrown into the air as if he was in a dust storm, his form flipping sideways completely in the air and seeming air born for a moment until he started to descend back to the ground. Panic setting in, the golden warrior barely had enough wit left in his panicked mind to transform and roll.

The landing was a twist of sand and metal as he scrambled to capture footing on the loose earth and still manage escape from the shots that were rhythmically being thrown at him. He barely got behind a nearby collection of rocks before his injured leg gave out, the yellow mech falling to the sands with a choked gasp of pain.

For a second, the younger mech remained behind the collection of rocks shaking as if he were Bumblebee. Bumblebee got captured in raids like this and hid like this, not him. Primus, he was proving what his brother just reveal to be true: he was the defect, a scared little prissy afraid to come out in the light. The yellow mech's hand shook at the thought of what his brother has said, but the pain radiating up his form from his leg kept throwing that thought to the way side; he needed Ratchet. Raising his hand, readying himself to call his comrades for help, something inside him snapped.

The defective reject needed help. Everyone barely even knew his dirty secret for a day and already it was going to be proven correct to them: he was going to prove he was no better than a prissy little virgin and twice the coward. Slowly, he reached for his subspace compartment instead and took out his weapon. He could deal with this Decepticon alone. After all, it seemed to be just one mech and in that way he could return to the base with some honor.

If he returned at all.

The rest of it was probably just stupidity after that, him running forward at some unknown enemy, shooting like someone out of a bad action movie before he suddenly leapt in the air, ready to land on the enemy as if he were just doing his regular jet-judo. The thing was, his movements froze halfway up in the air-bound transit when he saw who he was attacking: it was Megatron. Nobody but Optimus took Megatron head on and for good reason; everyone else always seemed to end up deactivated.

A collection of Megatron's and Sunstreaker's limbs suddenly crashed into each other as they rolled down a nearby sand dune, grunts and growls following them the whole way down. Sunny tried to bury the revelation of who he was fighting so he could focus now on surviving this more than winning because if Megatron's first punch was any indication of how this fight was going to go… this wasn't going to end well.

And he was right, not because Sunstreaker couldn't take the hits or the near-misses of gun fire, it was that one of Megatron's rock-hard punches hit true and Ratchet proved his warning right; Sunstreaker's hip could not withstand a beating. The golden warrior's agonizing scream had given Megaton the distraction he needed to win and one good punch to the face caused Sunstreaker to hit the sand and stop moving, hand twitching as he tried to reach for his leg. The movement ended quickly though when a heavy foot placed itself on Sunstreaker's chest.

Cursing himself silently, Sunstreaker wiped some energon from his lip with his free hand and glared up at the huge leader, the tyrant's face showing no expression, not even a smirk.

"Thought you could take me on, Autobot. Think again. Time to make your amends with Primus."

The verbal exchange ended quickly after that as the grey mech moved his cannon towards the twin's head, a buzzing noise filling Sunstreaker's audios. Megatron didn't even get to charge the cannon to full power when Sunstreaker's survival skills suddenly kicked in with revenge and he kicked out too. There was a sickening screech of metal on metal as the Autobot hit the cannon on its main clamp, the thing snapping at the seam and went flying into the air.

Megatron knew he should have seen the kick to the gut coming but he was a bit busy watching his gun snap off and go flying. The Autobot then proceeded to roll away, rising to his feet and putting his fists up, the injured leg struggling to keep him standing. The tyrant merely rubbed his midsection and turned to the yellow hellion as if to sneer. Instead, there was a smile on his face. So this Autobot wanted to tango, did he? A little hand to hand combat? Well, it was usually only Optimus Prime that dare take him on physically … new meat.

With a returning roar of his engines, the mech threw himself at the yellow Autobot. A scream of metal slamming into metal filled the desert expanse and soon the two beings were a mix of kicking, growling, biting, and clawing masses of metal again. And for some reason, this time, the threat of death caused his spark to beat abnormally fast and Sunstreaker found it exhilarating despite the pain in his leg. Every punch to the armor, every scratch of his paint job, was more an attack at his sorrow then him. He was not a joke to his enemy; he was not a defect; he was an equal … if only for a moment. At least he would die a warrior. With a growl of his own engine, the yellow mech managed to get on top of the other soldier, his fists coming down again and again as he slammed his fists into Megatron's face. He would die a warrior.

Megatron could feel the pain of every punch and every scrape against his armor, yet for some reason he suddenly found the warmth that had been collecting into his body become a full fledged heat. Primus, this Autobot was hot, to the point of overheating almost. It was almost hot enough that it felt like when a mech's systems were about to overload.

At that thought, Megatron's optics widened. Now that was not a thought to have at this particular time considering he was having the slang beat out of him; the last time he had interfaced was when he was on Cybertron, and there was a mech rocking on top of him. Megatron's cord tingled at the very thought.

At first the titan was shocked at the reaction his body had just decided to give him, especially towards a useless Autobot, but when he decided to ignore the punching to his face, he noticed why. He was on his back with a rather _handsome_ mech onto top of him, playing rough. Then there was the fact that the mech's spark was sending out rays of need for touch or love or any sign of emotion. The yellow front liner's body was getting turned on by the closeness of their sparks … and so was he in reaction to the younger mech. The Decepticon leader suddenly dodged a punch to the face as the truth hit him, a grin forming as Sunny's punch hit sand.

A most unexpected development but not entirely unwelcomed. It had been a while and this was a young good looking mech after all. He smiled wickedly up at the bewildered mech. This was going to be fun.

Sunstreaker was about to continue his punching, despite the smile. Instead, he couldn't help but gasp out, his body shivering, as a hand ran over his aft, fingers daring to touch his cod piece. Unfortunately for Sunstreaker, that sudden moment of shock was all Megatron needed to flip the Autobot over so that he was now on top of him, pinning Sunstreaker's arms. The leader couldn't help but smile wickedly as he watched a look of shock cover the yellow mech's face. He then leaned down, pressing his chest against the Autobot as a roar shivered through his engine and down into his partner's. The look on the yellow being's face was priceless, yet not as priceless as the shocked look that followed after when his engine returned a begging purr.

A soft chuckle escaped the Decepticon as he pinned the yellow mech's arms down with his knees so he had his arms free, using his now free hand to cup the shocked mech's chin. He then placed his spare hand on Sunstreaker's chassis, feeling the spark beat within as if it were a sun being introduced to its first day.

"It seems that you wish to play in more ways than one, Autobot," purred the 'Con. It really had been a while and now that his cord was tingling, he wasn't going to just forget it. Generally, he only went after femmes. Yes, it was an oddity to have a preference like that especially being that femmes were so rare, but from time to time he found a good mech that just couldn't be ignored.

"As if Megatron," growled Sunstreaker as he gave a violent tug at his arms, his own cord betraying him though. "Now get off me or offline me where I lay."

"Tuh, your mouth says one thing while you spark says another," said the warlord, his hips starting to grind back and forth on the codpiece below him. Primus, how long had it really been? Not that some of his men weren't attractive, but he didn't need any of his men stepping out of rank thinking they deserved special treatment since they were allowed to be his bitch for a night. Besides, none of them turned him on like a quick femme could do with a simple glance.

Sunstreaker tried not to shiver, but his voice came out quivering anyway, "W-why would I want to i-interface with you?"

The Con's smile slowly disappeared, the pain in the other mech's optics easily recognized now. Megatron stopped grinding for a moment, not wanting to lose the opportunity to get laid. Hmm, it seemed he'd just have to charm this Autobot like he did a femme. Slowly, Megatron reached out and cupped Sunstreaker's chin once again, running a thumb over the other's cheek lightly as if greeting a long lost lover. Primus, why hadn't he noticed this mech before for his beauty and not just his warrior might? He was stunning. If it weren't for his build, his face alone might confuse him for a femme; an angry femme at that with the ways his optics seemed to glare, but Megatron didn't really like those push over femmes anyway. Give him a mean lass that could bite any day over a pretty pushover like Optimus kept in his company.

Slowly, the tyrant leaned down, his chest pushing against his captive as he whispered down into those lovely ear fins on the Autobot's head.

"I know you. I've seen the way the other Autobots treat you… I have optics everywhere after all. I see how they set you apart," said the Con, adding a little vengeance to his voice as he breathed onto those now shivering appendages, "how they ignore you and hate you when you aren't on the battlefield. They think you are a monster… Pit, your own bother has abandoned you, hasn't he? I haven't seen him battling at your side much anymore."

Slowly, Megatron pulled away, giving that ear-fin a soft nip as he pulled himself upward to see what reaction he had pulled out of the mech beneath thing. The yellow mech was shivering – with hate or passion, Megatron couldn't tell – staring at the warlord for a moment, a pained look rising on his features as if he had just been stabbed. Perfect.

"Don't worry," whispered the warlord as he pushed the yellow mech's chin up, placing his lips mere inches from the others. "I'm not afraid of you."

After those words were murmured, it was easy to see a distinctive change in the younger mech below him, but Megatron just continued to wait. Sunstreaker, his spark burning with far too many heated emotions, slowly filled the remaining inch between Megatron's and his lips, offering a soft wet peck on the other's lips. He pulled away quickly as if surprised by his own action, but then he rose again to meet the Decepticon's mouth, daring and demanding. Yet, as he worked his jaw in a hungry passion, Sunstreaker once again pulled away when Megatron didn't react to his kiss, his optics shifting in question as he tried to find acceptance in Megatron's gaze.

Leisurely, a grin crept on Megatron's face and with the speed of a snapping croc the warlord had planted a painfully demanding and passionate kiss on the yellow mech's lips, his tongue forcing itself into the stunned Autobot's mouth, tasting his insides. Primus, this mech actually tasted better than most femmes he had had on long forgotten nights under Cybertron's sky. The anger and pain to this mech only added flavor to him. Primus, he was going to enjoy this.

**XXX**

**Paw07: Yep… we all know what was going to happen there and it was deleted because some critics were deleting stories off the site like nobody's business. Link at the bottom for that. **

**Link for AFF (remove spaces): cartoon . adultfanfiction ?no=600092940**

**Link for Deviantart (remove spaces): paw07 . deviantart art / Sunny-Dispostion-ch3-307247460**

**Link for petition to stop story deletion (remove brackets): petitions/fanfiction-net-stop-the-destruction-of-fanfiction-net#**


	4. FalseBrother

Chapter 4: False-Brother

It was bright, painfully bright, and Sunstreaker groaned as he placed a hand over his optics to try and keep himself in recharge. What a weird dream he had had. Who knew he secretly wanted Megatron? Well, he wasn't about to tell Red Alert about it, but it was sure … enjoyable. He had never had such a wonderful …

"About time you woke up. I was going to have Soundwave check your systems in a minute or two to see if I had offlined you last night."

Sunstreaker couldn't sit up fast enough, his structure groaning from the sand that had been captured in between his joints last night. It was then that he rose into a sitting position, his optics wide as he met the gaze of a visor and two sleek, red, optics. His vents caught, his gaze automatically going to the fusion cannon that Megatron was securing to his arm.

Megatron stopped for a minute to stare at him and stated simply, "Did you further injury your leg during our recreational activities? You seem pained, Autobot. I can have Soundwave look at it."

Sunstreaker's optics brightened and he stiffened when that visor stared at him. The Third in Command made no forward movement towards him but that didn't quell his fears. T-this wasn't happening. It was a trick. He hadn't slept with Megatron. This was a ruse to trick him into offering information. He needed to get up and run. Yet, as soon as he moved, he felt the tell tale wetness between his legs as well as a sharp pinch from his port. He winced before looking down… at the proof. He pressed his legs together quickly and looked back at Megatron with that same surprised expression.

"I-we… we ..."

"Yes and it was most enjoyable my young Autobot," said Megatron catching on immediately as he stood, his hand rubbing against his reattached cannon for a second before he started towards the yellow warrior. Sunstreaker stiffened, his gaze on the cannon. He was going to be shot. He was going to be silence. Frag. He couldn't run, leg was too injured, he didn't even know which sand hill his gun was buried under, and he couldn't drive because his tire was still blown out. He didn't want to die like this. Everyone would think he was raped and then left for dead. He did not …

Suddenly, he felt a hand cupping his cheek, petting the side of his face. He stared up at a grinning Megatron … a happy Megatron … someone who had been glad to have him.

"It was so enjoyable, in fact, that I think I would like to take part in it again," said the warlord, his grip tightening slightly on Sunny's chin in a possessive way.

Sunstreaker was at first speechless to the titan looking down at him, but his Autobot programs were screaming for him to run, escape, not to defile himself again, but his spark… it was pained and broken and strangely fuzzy. It did not retort at the thought of such meetings. It welcomed it. It welcomed the thought of someone not disgusted or afraid of him.

Swallowing, Sunstreaker found his optics dimming, his words decided in a beg of want and need, "I want to … but my brother, the Autobots … I can't … he."

Megatron placed his thumb over those lovely lips and stated in a deep purr, knowing he could turn the mech to the Decepticons so easily, stated, "No one needs know about this beside you and me," he looked back at Soundwave, "and Soundwave who won't be saying anything anyways. This isn't about politics; it's about pleasure. What do you say my young lover?"

Sunstreaker, his mind still lost yet feeling no depression like he had when leaving the Ark, stated in an obedient tongue, "Yes, Megatron."

The smile that followed was soft and so unlike Megatron that Sunstreaker wondered if this was really the warlord that he had spent most of his adult life hating and fighting. Then there was the soft way in which his hand pressed over Sunny's cheek, rubbing his ear fin, just further pushing back any worry of the warlord's intentions. All Sunny knew was that he wanted him.

"One last thing before I go. Tell me mech, what's your name?" said Megatron, his gaze deep and demanding.

The golden warrior felt hurt for a moment but quickly reminded himself… how many mechs had he slept with and not known their names? Not one one-night stand had he stalled to ask his midnight lover for their name. That was Sideswipe's job. Not once.

He smiled sadly, betrayal slamming in his tubing, yet he found himself wanting someone so badly he found himself stating, "It's Sunstreaker."

"Thank you," and then he kissed the sunshine mech on the forehead goodbye, leaving him with many thoughts and feelings Sunstreaker didn't quite understand. That was probably why the yellow warrior didn't show up at base until dusk was falling over the world, the Ark reflecting the last rays of sunlight its metal hull was offered.

…

Trailbreaker leaned against the entrance of the Ark, his optics scanning the horizon. He was on guard duty tonight, not that he was complaining. It was either here or out in the desert all night with the search team. Drama was a norm around here and he wasn't about to complain… he wanted to be nowhere near Sunstreaker when they found him.

If they found him at all.

Jazz had returned, bloodied and beaten, nearly had a whole arm ripped off. Starscream had found and nearly tore him apart. And when there was one Decepticon there were sure to be others. Jazz had been following Sunstreaker so what did that mean about the yellow hellion?

Trailbreaker wouldn't forget Sideswipe's reaction easily. Apparently, the red mech thought his brother might be dead. He couldn't feel him at all. Trailbreaker didn't know much about twin bonds but he knew that was a dire situation. He felt for the mech, he did, but at the same time he felt a tinge of cold in him… Sunstreaker was the rejected part of the spark. It would be a sweet release for him to probably be dead.

No, he must not think like that. He was an Autobot. Autobots did not wish death on each other.

Swallowing and trying to forget the desperation in both Jazz and Sideswipe's expression this morning, Trailbreaker turned his attention back to the horizon and felt his hydraulics wheeze. There was dust being thrown up in the horizon. His hydraulics went still and his comm. link roared to life, Prowl's voice echoing in his audios.

"Prowl here, Is there something wrong, Trailbreaker?"

"Maybe. There is someone coming from the South East. I don't believe there is supposed to be anyone coming back from search and rescue duty in the desert, but with all that dust, I believe that's where they are coming from," said Trailbreaker. He didn't think it was a 'Con, far too straightforward, but whoever it was wasn't supposed to be here. Bad news all around.

Or maybe it was good. The glint of yellow was hard not to recognize nor the speed that was being used. Trailbreaker sighed, feeling an ease overcoming him. Sunstreaker was safe.

Opening his comm. link, Trailbreaker stated hurriedly, "Prowl. I think it's Sunstreaker."

There was a moment of silence on the other line and then in the cool voice that only Prowl could pull off, the Second in Command stated, "I'll be there in a minute, Prowl out."

Trailbreaker then turned his gaze back to the horizon and almost had to take a step back when he saw how close the Frontliner had gotten. He was less than a quarter of a mile away and still throwing up dust. He was probably thinking that he was going to slide into the base without any confrontation and find a place to wallow in self-pity; not that Trailbreaker blamed him but there were plenty of mechs that wanted to talk to him. Sideswipe was probably the most desperate but not on the top of the food chain. Prowl, Optimus Prime, and Ratchet wanted to talk to him. Apparently, they all had their own agendas from what the green mech overheard. Prowl was going to punish him for insubordination and abandoning his post without proper consent to do so; Optimus Prime wanted to offer him support and probably a reprisal for leaving like he had; and Ratchet was probably going to beat the Lamborghini into slag for transforming with that injured leg and then demand a psych evaluation.

Poor slagger. He didn't even want to know what was supposed to occur when Sideswipe got his chance to speak. Well, he had a feeling that the next few weeks would not be boring at least.

The green mech shifted his hips slightly when the yellow Lamborghini came to a halt before him, a dust cloud continuing the race that the yellow vehicle had abandoned. The mech was still for a moment and then with almost a painful slowness Sunstreaker transformed, his arm automatically going to his hip which had tell-tale signs of bleeding all down his thighs … along with something else. What was that?

"What are you staring at?" came a growl from the yellow mech as he glared at the patrol.

Trailbreaker wasn't the type to return hostility so he asked in a worried tone, looking at all the dents and scratches all over the mech's form, "You… were you attacked to. Are you okay, Sunstreaker? Let me call Ratchet. He finished Jazz a little while ago."

The mech's eyes went wide and his thoughts immediately returned to proof between his thighs. Trailbreaker might not have notice the slight glint of something other than energon since the dark was dragging itself over the horizon, but in a fully lit room Ratchet would notice it. He couldn't really tell the medic that he had voluntarily slept with Megatron and expect to still be an Autobot in the morning. He also was too proud to say he was raped. He didn't need pity for something that had never occurred though the soreness between his legs was telling him that he probably could pull off an incorrect account like rape off easily.

Stiffening in the shoulders, the yellow soldier's mind quickly calculated how far he was from the showers. He could probably get there before Ratchet could meet him in the halls. If he left right now…

"Sunstreaker, report."

The yellow mech was thrust from his thoughts as if a violent wind had just pushed him off the side of a cliff, cackling. He met the cold calculating gaze of the resident tactician. Slag. Resisting the urge to punch the white and black mech in the face, the frontliner merely stated, "Report what? Why I left without getting proper authority or why I look like slag? I'm sure you know the answer to the former and the later can wait until after I take a shower."

Prowl's optics kept their same emotionless demur but Sunstreaker couldn't help but notice the slight twitch of the higher ranking officer's wing struts.

"I have a theory as to why you went A.W.O.L, but I need to have you say so, so that I can decide a proper punishment. And, given the looks of you, you probably met the same situation that Jazz did."

Sunstreaker shifted nervously. He needed to go and clean himself, hide this pleasurable-shame, but he could tell that Prowl was going to drag this out and then Ratchet would see and inquire and then Optimus would as well. He had to think of an excuse.

"Are you listening?"

The yellow hellion was pulled from his inner musing and couldn't help but give the stiff-shoulder superior a surprised look. He hadn't been listening, he had been so focused on his escape that he couldn't. The glare from Prowl told him all he needed to know… and that the commanding officer was disgusted by his presence.

Everyone would have that expression from now on, wouldn't they? Don't get to close to the reject, don't touch the reject, he might rub off on you. Rage that hadn't been there mere second's ago rose like a sleeping storm off the oceans belly, and the yellow hellion found himself striking out, pushing away a suddenly shocked looking tactician.

"Theory, huh? You just wanted to hear it from my own mouth, didn't you? You wanted to hear about how I was the freakin' the second born, the unwanted one? Get the slag out of my way you hypocrite."

With that, the yellow monster gave a shove, pushing Prowl to a wall and storming off, his destination already decided and a new question in his head. Had Prowl really seemed disgusted and cold at him more than usual or had Sunstreaker's paranoia just made him into that? Not that he was going to dwell on it. Thinking about it too much would only hurt because if he was wrong… he was acting the part of a reject: paranoid and emotionally unbalanced.

Prowl watched Sunstreaker turn the corner, leaving drops of energon behind in his rush to move that damaged leg. Recalling the thought of Ratchet's want for a psych evaluation, the tactician turned his comm. link on.

"Prime, it was Sunstreaker, and I think its best that we wait to talk to him. Ratchet's worries may hold a lot more weight than ours. We should let him have first action," said Prowl, his face showing signs of emotion, one that he himself hated giving: pity.

…

"What is this! This isn't even the right tire size for your alt form. What happened to _your_ tire," all but screamed Ratchet as he continued to roam all over the front-liner's body with his sensors and gaze.

Sunstreaker tried not to twitch away from that look and tried to keep his cold disposition. He had barely been in the shower for five minutes, washing away fluids but unable to remove his cod piece because he had "bubble-buddies" as Bumblebee had once called it. He didn't care if they were minding their own business; he hated it when he ran into other mechs in the wash racks. The only being he liked washing with was … no … had been Sideswipe. It seemed he'd have to find a new way to get to the hard to reach spots. Either way, he never even got far enough to worry about that impossible to reach plating because Ratchet all but dragged him away, leaving the water running.

"It was all I could get a hold of in the bloody desert," stated the yellow mech as he felt Ratchet lay hands on his leg, too close to his cod piece if you asked the Sunny warrior, so he tried to twitch away.

The medic didn't seem to notice Sunstreaker's reaction. Instead, he immediately cursed at the state of the appendage and stomped to a nearby supply closet, First Aid stepping out of the way of the enraged healer, giving Sunstreaker a frightful look before heading over to Jazz's berth side.

Jazz looked terrible by the way. Not that Sunstreaker was complaining. If the friendly saboteur was still awake, he'd be doing nothing by annoying the injured mech. Jazz just had this sixth sense about who needed company and no matter if they were glaring or silent as the dead, he would be offering music and chit-chat. That was probably why he was friends with Prowl. The mech never complained but he probably didn't have many close friends either. Great … he had just become Jazz's newest "pity" target, hadn't he?

Groaning to himself, Sunstreaker paid little mind to the sound of metal objects being violently thrown out of the room and just as the frontliner turned his head to see what was being taken out of the room, he saw a flash of grey and then the tool slammed right into his head. Sunstreaker was knocked out before his optics even went offline.

Ratchet, a moment later, came out of the room carrying a sheet of metal or two along with a collection of tubing and laser scalpels. He laid them on the neighboring berth and started to grumble, "First Aid, get over here; I need to rip most of the leg apart. Bloody fragger messed himself up."

First Aid stood there a moment, a little petrified of his own master, given the rage he was in. Sometimes, he would never admit it, but he was scared of his creator. Swallowing down any trembling that wished to crawl into his throat, "What's the metal for then if we are stripping the leg and not rebuilding it?"

"To weld him to the berth! That's what!" all but yelled the older medic.

XXX

A grunt filled the room followed by the roar of an engine and an angry curse. Ratchet had threatened time and time again, but he had never expected the healer to do it. He had never thought Ratchet would weld him to the berth.

Cursing up a storm, Sunstreaker started to erratically pull at the restraints on his wrists. He quickly tired though and gave up which was strange for him, but he really shouldn't have been surprised … he was still banged up, his leg partially done and none of his other injuries really taken care of. Not that he was complaining. The moment he was fully repaired, everyone would be down his neck, demanding one thing or the other from him. He could deal with most of them with a silent glare or violent stomping as he left the room, but not Sideswipe. There was this jolt in his spark, a heaviness. He couldn't face him but he didn't think he had a choice.

He could feel Sideswipe… right outside the doors… and Sideswipe felt him.

Sunstreaker, suddenly feeling like caged animal, started thrashing violently, engine screeching at the sudden stress. He could not face him, would not! He didn't care if he had to request a transfer. He was not talking to that false-brother. He would not allow that slagger to lie to him again. He could not take his brother's false sympathy.

"Quit pulling on those," finally came a growl as none other than Ratchet came out from his office across the medical bay floor. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave the golden warrior a warning look. "You are not going anywhere. Not only do I have to finish your repairs which will take forever, mind you, due to all the sand you got into your internals, but you and I need to have a little talk."

He had an idea of what Ratchet meant by "little talk". It meant a physiological evaluation followed by multiple weeklong counseling sessions until Sunstreaker broke down and cried or made some kind of revelation about himself and his problems. He had no problems! His only problem was Sideswipe who was going to come in here and …

Beating, like a wild thunderstorm over the plains, suddenly fell over the medical bay, stirring Ratchet to look at the door. Sunstreaker merely stilled, his voice coming out as something other than an animalistic growl, "Please don't…"

Ratchet must have not been paying attention or just didn't care because he growled something around the lines of "better be bleeding to death" and then walked to the door. He stuck his hand on the door pad lock and the door opened with a swish. He felt Sideswipe crawling at the bond before he heard the medic's engine growl.

"Sunstreaker isn't awake yet," a lie from Ratchet, now that was surprising. "I'll comm. you when you can come and visit."

"Don't lie to me!" all but screamed the red being in the hall, Sunstreaker going still and wondering if he could play it off as if he were still asleep. He knew it wouldn't work though, Sideswipe was pressing to roughly into the bond, to the point of pain almost.

Ratchet took a step back, perhaps in fear or surprise. Sideswipe never yelled like that. Sunstreaker knew he did from time to time, but never his brother. It was abnormal and haunting.

Then, probably before the medic could regain his composure, a blur of red raged past Ratchet, pushing over the healer, Sideswipe coming in Sunstreaker's direction. Sunstreaker tightened as he watched his brother's raged expression become a pained one, and he all but stumbled to Sunstreaker's berth side, his hand panicking as it clumsily tried to grasp his brother's hand.

Sunstreaker balked slightly, unable to get away from his brother's touch … his touch was like fire, his bond being slammed with thousands of words and emotions, all demanding entrance. The yellow mech actually had to ground his dentals and hold back a groan of pain from the intensity of it.

"Sunny, are you alright? I couldn't feel you, I still can't! Open up, please! I'm sorry, please let me in," Sideswipe was near hysteria, if a mech could drop tears that would probably be what he was doing.

Ratchet slowly picked himself up, staring at the whole thing with wide optics. Sideswipe was all but clawing at his brother … demanding access to their bond. Now, that didn't sound good. Twin bonds were very delicate at times because it was a lifeline for the two beings involved. Even if the two of them would go out and find different bond mates, the bonds would still be strong. It wouldn't be considered strange for the two to bond and interface still from time to time even if they had mates.

To close off Sideswipe entirely… that was strange and dangerous for twins, especially since only Sideswipe had a mate to balance his bond. Sunstreaker knew he could die especially since he was so "insecure" about obtaining his own mate. Yes, Ratchet knew all the details. They surprised him mostly because it offered a revelation about Sunstreaker and his sexual insecurities which was odd for a mech that made sure he was always beautiful.

Then again, that was probably why he beautiful. He didn't know how else to acquire love thus making himself seem entirely vain. Sunstreaker had never been in love… except with his brother. A brother that had betrayed him.

Sunstreaker was in emotional turmoil right now and needed time to sort through it. Sideswipe was only making this situation worse, which was probably even hurting the yellow warrior right now since Sideswipe was probably trying to force through the bond. He would not allow anyone to harm his patient further.

Ratchet clicked on his comm. his tone growling, "Prowl, Ironhide, Red Alert! Get to the medical bay now! Sideswipe is hurting one of my patients!"

"Comin' Ratch!"

"I'll be there in a moment."

"C-coming! I'm bringing backup to!"

Ratchet grunted and turned back to the brothers. His eyes going wide at what happened next … maybe welding someone to the berth wasn't a very wise idea.

"Let me in! Say something! Look at me!" yelled Sideswipe, his grip growing painful.

Sunstreaker winced, his pain rolling over him in waves. He never wanted to talk to that false-brother again! Dragging in a pained breath he finally turned toward the red demon, "Let go! Don't play this act of false empathy! You are not sorry! You lied to me and then betrayed me! You've made me a freak amongst the entire base! Get out! Get out! You are no brother of mine! Get out!"

Sunstreaker found himself pulling at his restraints so roughly he was starting to draw blood, a scream of pain echoing from his vocals as he tried to get away from his false-brother's touch!

"Stop touching me!"

Sideswipe was shocked and actually took a step back in horror, his optics shivering in setting. Sunstreaker had never acted this way towards him. Not even when the two of them had gotten into spats. His brother was in a lot of pain, emotionally. Sideswipe knew he had been ignoring his brother due to his relationship with Bluestreak. Had he been so preoccupied that he didn't notice how much his brother needed him? W-was that what really instigated the fight in the rec. room? Had Sunstreaker needed him so badly?

He loved his brother, was near hysteria when Jazz came back half dead. He had thought Sunstreaker was dead, the whiplash of a broken bond soon to be ricocheting back into him. It never came and it made him realize something… he loved his brother but at the same time he had to let him go.

Except he couldn't do that until he knew his brother would be okay and he couldn't fix anything if he didn't know what was wrong.

Unless this was truly about Bluestreak. He couldn't leave Bluestreak either. He knew ... no, he was, in love. He had to make Sunstreaker see this love, this want. He had to make his brother understand! He'd force it on him if he had to. He would not abandon his brother. After all, he was technically the dominate brother of the two twins.

Sunstreaker would let him in.

"Let me in, Sunny," said the twin in a dark whisper.

Sunstreaker's rage seemed drowned. W-what? Hadn't his brother heard a word of what he had just said? His lip twitched in agitation, "No."

Sideswipe, who had been looking at the floor, suddenly was looking deeply into his Sunny's optics, boring into him. The yellow brother barely had time to compute what happened afterwards, rage and demand slamming into the wall between their bond as Sideswipe suddenly jumped upon the berth straddled him like they were going to interface, but Sunny didn't want his brother… so his brother was going to take what he wanted.

His brother was going to try to rape him.

Ratchet stared in horror at what was happening on the berth. It was as if he was watching the first stages of rape like a spectator. He knew twin bonds were unique and sometimes they forced feelings on each other but this … this was going too far. Luckily, it seemed the stupor that was consuming Ratchet who was friend to the two feuding brothers could not rule over his medic's programming. So when Sunstreaker cried in horror and pain, Sideswipe ripping open his brother's chassis with far too much force, Ratchet started forward like a single knight to take on a fuming, red, dragon. With a stiff arm, the healer forcefully grabbed Sideswipe by the elbow and with a great grunt flung the imposing force to the floor.

Sideswipe, a frontliner for a reason, was to his feet as soon as his body stopped sliding on the metallic tiling. He then, with a bar fight exactness, did a right upper-cut punch to the face of the healer, the jaw hinge cracking and the medic falling against the bottom of Sunstreaker's berth with a resounding clang.

He sat there for a moment, disoriented, his hand reaching up towards his head. Sideswipe just glared at him before taking a step towards his brother once more. No step followed after though. Not rape. No screaming. No connecting threads of light as the two bonded. There was just the phantom click of the butt of a gun being slammed between the elder frontliner's shoulders. Ironhide's lip twitched as Sideswipe fell to the floor, the old mech standing like a marble statue over the silent field of a graveyard, the click of three other sets of heavy feet following after: the only sound amongst the silent dead.

Prowl, Red Alert, and Inferno came up behind Ironhide, looking over the scene to try and distinguish what had happened. He came into the room just in time to see Ratchet rip Sideswipe off his brother. What ensued before that was beyond him but Ratchet looked terrible and that was answer enough

"You okay, Ratch'?" said Ironhide as he reached down and grabbed Sideswipe from underneath the armpit, hoisting him up like a rag doll, Inferno grabbing the other side of the downed frontliner.

Ratchet rubbed his jaw with aching slowness, wincing when he noticed just how damaged it was. He looked up at the old soldier and nodded, stating in a somber tone, "Just get him the slag out of here and into a cell. I'll tell you what happened as soon as I take care of Sunstreaker.

Ironhide frowned even more, wondering what had happened until he looked upward slightly, finally noticing that Sunstreaker's chassis was open and he was shaking like a leaf in the wind. The yellow twin seemed terribly upset, upset in such a way that Ironhide had never seen and it bothered him deeply.

Nodding and turning away, if only to spare Sunstreaker some pride, he started towards the brig with the false-brother. He had an idea of what had happened yet at the same time he had an idea but couldn't believe it. Sideswipe was supposed to be the emotional one and Sunstreaker the violent one like two sides of a soul. There was so much more to them and he had a feeling he'd be seeing just how separate the two were from now on.

With a calming touch, Ratchet ran a hand down Sunstreaker's arm, trying to calm him. He gave a soft smile and slowly closed the sunshine colored mech's chassis. He then, immediately, started to remove the welded restraints, whispering that everything was going to be fine; there was no need to afraid and that it wouldn't happen again.

Sunstreaker's engine just continued to whine and cry though as he watched his brother being dragged away by Ironhide, Red Alert, and Inferno, Prowl giving Ratchet a worried look before he followed after. Slowly, as Prowl looked from Ratchet down to Sunny, the young mech turned his head away in shame. A realization had hit him… even if he had wanted to make up with his brother, he could never bond with him again –forcefully or not- because then Sideswipe would see… Sideswipe would see his longing… his longing for a monster with red optics and large hands.

Megatron.

XXX

**Paw07: Not much was removed from this censored chapter, just some description of the almost-rape and anything mentioning neither regions. **


	5. Bleeding

Chapter 5: Bleeding

Sunny could only stare at the ceiling as he onlined. He didn't recall going into recharge, but given his shaken disposition last night, Ratchet probably gave him a sedative which would explain why his leg now seemed completely repaired. He cursed the medic. With the pain of his leg gone, his mind was now reflecting on what had happened with sickening scrutiny. His mind kept replaying it, wondering if there was a way for him to still share his spark with his brother and hide what had happened with Megatron. He knew there wasn't but his mind kept poking at reality with its dull stick, his fingers full of slivers yet reality showed not even a single blemish in its perfect bubble.

He dulled his optics, his hand coming to lie on his abdomen. His neither regions ached from his night with Megatron. He hadn't had a chance to look at it given the obvious circumstances but a part of him knew that he was surely ripped. He had barely noticed once the larger mech had started, but now he realized that Megatron had been too big and now he was suffering the consequences. He was bleeding down there and could only thank Primus that he had put a rag down there under his cod piece before arriving at the Autobot base. He didn't need leaking.

Swallowing, Sunstreaker tried to focus his gaze anywhere but at his cob piece because the medic just noticed he was awake and he didn't need the medic there right now. Though, with damaged interface equipment, one was supposed to go to a medic immediately.

"Sunstreaker," said Ratchet in a soft voice as he drew in close to Sunny, placing a hand on the mech's shoulder. "You are awake. Are you feeling better?"

The golden warrior frowned, not liking the soft smile on Ratchet's face. The healer was being too terribly kind… Ugh, he could taste the pity like a sour rottenness in his mouth. The slagger was trying to make up for nearly getting his patient raped as well as trying to treat Sunny for some nonexistent "trauma" he had received when Sideswipe tried to press himself onto him. Pressing away his disgust, the front-liner stated, "I see you finished my leg while I was out so I should be fine. Can I leave now?"

Ratchet frowned at the bitterness escaping the twin's vocals. Usually, he'd slap the mouthy mech across the helm to get him or her to show some respect, but then again the flavor of rage could be Sunny's way of covering up his feelings. Mentally adding that probable conclusion to Sunstreaker's file, he continued, "Yes… and no. After hearing about the situation with Sideswipe, Prime gave me exclusive rights to remove you from active duty until I have given you a satisfactory bill of health. In this case: mental health. He doesn't need you snapping on the battlefield."

With a grown of his engine, Sunstreaker was sitting up, his lip twitching as he growled, "I don't need a physiological exam! Red Alert walks around here all day and isn't removed from active duty whenever he had one of his freak outs! So why should I have to!"

"Calm down, Sunstreaker," added Ratchet in a cool tone, his optics becoming bright. "I will have Ironhide restrain you if you try to leave. You will be talking to me if you want to or not. I know what's best for you so lay the frag down, recharge a little more, and I'll talk to you later. If you need anything, ask First Aid or Swoop."

The yellow mech's optics became really bright as he turned and noticed that there were four other mechs in the room … listening to their conversation. Ironhide had First Aid hovering over him, looking at what looked like a damaged optic, fluids dripping down his cheek; Inferno's windshield was cracked and one of the wing-like appendages near his head was all but ripped off. He gave Sunstreaker a forlorn smile before turning back to Swoop who was fingering the windshield, picking out small pieces of glass that fell to the floor with a small tinkering noise.

Sunny swallowed, part of his mind putting two and two together, "What happened?"

"Your slaggen brother, that's what," growled the medic as he placed a tool or two into his sub-space compartment. "He woke up and nearly ripped the cell door off so Ironhide and Inferno tried to subdue him. If you think they look bad, you should see your brother… Prime got to him and after hearing that he…"

Ratchet went silent at this when he noticed that Sunny was digging his fingers into the berth, his engine wheezing. He swallowed his words, patting the mech on the shoulder as he stated, "Well, I better go look at him. I'll be back in a little bit."

Ratchet then left, grumbling something about a toaster.

Sunstreaker, not knowing what else to do, sat there on the berth, staring at the door. He felt raw, sick inside. His interface equipment hurt, Ironhide and Inferno were throwing him odd glances from time to time, and he could feel Sideswipe just pressing into the spark-bond despite Sunstreaker's block.

He needed to get away and be alone, somewhere far from peering eyes. He could feel it creeping up on him… it had been doing so since he had woken up. He hadn't been allowed to suffer the after effects of what his brother had done, what had happened with Megatron, his brother's abandonment, and the exposure of his second-born shame. He needed time to himself… he needed some time to weep over his sorrows.

He would never cry in the presence of others.

Choking on a sob that threatened to escape his vents, Sunstreaker dragged and covered his optics with his hand as he sat on the edge of his berth, not wanting the others to see the shivering of his optics. Cybertronians did not shed tears the way humans did but they did have their own breed of crying: engines would hiccup and skip, their fans would choke, bodies would slightly tremble, the spark would shiver, and the optics would shudder on and off involuntarily. All the other symptoms varied, but the shivering of the optics always occurred.

He was already thought of as weak due to Sideswipe's outburst… he didn't need another reason to be considered weak. He would not give them another reason. Rising to his feet and trying to control the fading composure of his vents as much as possible, Sunstreaker headed for the doors of the medical bay, his optics directed anywhere but towards the other residences. He didn't care if Ratchet went rampant when he came back to find Sunny gone, he just needed to get out of here.

He knew it was coming, but it still made him stall, "Sunstreaker," it was First Aid, "is something wrong? If you need something, I will get it. Just lie down like Ratchet asked."

It took a lot of self control not to choke as he spoke, "I'm going to my room… if Ratchet wants to talk to me he can talk to me there."

Ironhide's voice cracked as he shouted, "Now don't you start given us trouble like your brother! Get back in that berth younglin' before I drag you."

Sunstreaker stiffened in the shoulders, hearing the old mech call him youngling stirring rage into his being; it was worse than being called a virgin because it subtly suggested that he was even too young to have intercourse. He turned, caring little if they'd all see his grief, as he yelled, "I am not a youngling that needs to be babied and pitied like Bumblebee! I'm fraggen leaving! The fricken virgin reject will be leaving your presence now."

Ironhide was drawn back by the comment and merely moved his lips as if trying to think of anything to say, but, before he could even think of anything, the door slid shut, the sunshine colored mech gone.

XXX

Sunstreaker could only sit on his berth, legs dangling like vines from a tree. The room was dark, welcoming all shadows and ghosts to further the flavor of his sorrow. This was all Bluestreak's fault. The slaggen little gunner had to have shook his aft in just the right way or given that naive smile of innocence at the exact moment to make Sideswipe see him as something other than a youngling, something that could be fragged. He looked down at his hands, looking at the scratched paint. He could see the grey smudges on it, but if anyone saw it they probably didn't even think of Megatron, that these hands had caressed and pleasured Megatron… like some kind of cheep pleasure-bot.

His tanks churned, and Sunstreaker put a hand on either side of him to grip his berth as he leaned his head forward, opening his mouth. It was a dry, sickening cough, a little bit of spittle the only thing dripping down to the floor. He remained that way though, his abdomen bowing to his legs and he coughed again, memories flashing like a thousand turning signals at night on the highway.

Sunny tried to chase the first image of that warm night, sickness growing in his tank. H-how could he have…

The next image came regardless, desperate hands grasping at each other.

Sunstreaker groaned at the thought, more spittle dripping down the side of his mouth and to the floor. H-how could he have let Megatron have him like that? He had acted little a desperate first-time-interfacing femme.

He had even locked himself down like an in-heat dog and he had just laid there and took it, his first fragging time alone he had acted like a helpless femme with her legs wide open. His lovers with Sideswipe never were the dominate partner. Not once. And here he gave it all away. He gave away the most sacred thing of all transformers like it was nothing, his spark. He polluted his spark.

The choking finally gave way to something real and it all came out, the polluted taste of regret. He regurgitated what energon Ratchet had forced in his systems, the stuff splattering all over the floor. Sunny's form shook as he stared at the slightly digest and glowing energon on the floor.

Staring at the fluid for a moment, Sunstreaker's systems regurgitated again at the thought and continued to do so, fans nearly overheating until all Sunny could do was choke on his shaking breath as he stared at the growing mess on the floor. He-he was nothing but a little whore that had given up his brother for a night of pleasure and release. His legs shifted at the thought… a little horrified that he was still dripping down there. Looking at the floor, Sunstreaker reached for his cod piece. The floor was already wet so he just as well clean himself up and empty his chamber.

Jumping to the floor, Sunstreaker stepped over the mess on the floor and went to a collection of drawers on the wall. His fingers automatically stilled just as he was about to grab the handle… this was technically his brother's drawer; Sideswipe would always clean both of their interfacing equipment afterwards, not wanting any corrosion or to catch slag from Ratchet for blocked or sore interfacing equipment.

Swallowing, his fingers pulled open the drawer without another moment of hesitation and he pulled out some cleaning rags, a suction-cup looking tool that had a clear tube at the end, and a gentle solvent. He moved back to his berth and slowly opened his legs; there was a click as he opened his cod piece. His lip twitched in disgust as he looked at the liquids that had dried on the back of the piece and the wet rag within. His optics dulled as he slowly whispered for the lights to turn on. His fingers twitched as the light revealed the energon.

He was bleeding.

The mech took in a deep breath, his fans humming. Slowly, he leaned back and stared down. More energon. Slag…

Two rags later and dirty suction cup later, he was staring at the mess on the floor. He still felt like he hadn't gotten the chamber completely empty, but he needed to...

Knock. Knock.

Sunstreaker halted, his optics going bright white. The first thought that hit Sunny's mind was not that Ratchet probably had decided to hunt him down or Prowl or Optimus wanted to talk to him. Sideswipe wasn't even a worry because, for one, he wouldn't have knocked. What worried him was if someone had heard the squelching noises that came from his current actions, the removal of his new shame.

All but tripping over himself, foot sliding in the fluids in the floor, Sunstreaker tripped to the door and quickly pressed the button by the door's controls that locked it. He heard someone shift outside and a muffled voice came through.

"Sunstreaker? You there? It not Sideswipe. Please, open door or I use medic codes to open it."

Swallowing, the yellow twin looked at the mess on the floor. H-he didn't need anyone in here. Quickly grabbing the rags, he threw them on the floor and started mopping up the mess, his hands shaking as he rushed, a second knocking making him jump and throw the rags under the nearby berth. He stumbled to his feet, grabbing his cod piece and sliding it on just as the door slid open, light washing down on him like a spotlight. Sunstreaker swallowed as a shadow was quickly thrown over him, a dark outline watching him with blue optics; in the doorway stood Swoop with a scrutinizing gaze.

Sunstreaker's optics glowed a little brighter, his hands finding themselves hidden behind his back because he knew they were still filthy. Trying to push down any signs of weakness, the mech spoke in a slightly soft-bitter tone, hoping to scare off the flying rat, "If you are just going to stand there and gawk, do so in the rec. room like everyone else will be for the next few weeks."

The large mech stood there a moment, observing the mech with his shivering frame, weak legs, and stained fingers. He smelled partially digested energon as well… had Sunstreaker been sick? Ratchet had told him, early on when showing the flier where the buckets were, that sometimes when mechs got upset enough, their tanks would release its contents to try and force its owner into a low energy state to calm the mech down or to force them to go into recharge due to low energy reserves. Removing his clawed hand from the door controls, Swoop stated, "Why'd you leave so sad? It is not bad thing to be untouched through interfacing. Me and the rest of the Dinobots have not had any sexual nestmates."

The yellow twin's engine growled, embarrassment rising at being compared to the Dinobots, and he found his voice rising as he all but yelled, "I am not sad and I am not an untouched virgin! It's just that I've never needed anyone but Sideswipe and," Sunstreaker's voice suddenly broke at the realization, "and he's no longer here."

Swoop tilted his head slightly, reviewing the frontliner's words over. Then, as if thinking he's ask an older mech about it because he didn't quite understand, Swoop suddenly grabbed Sunstreaker by the wrist and started dragging him forward, "No time to be sad. Best to be sad in front of Ratchet so he can fix it."

"What!" choked Sunstreaker as he was unceremoniously grabbed; the large mech dragging him away from his door. "Let me go, slagger! I don't need Ratchet in my head! Let go before I slaggen beat you!"

"So," said Ratchet, his brow arching as he sat behind his desk in a more comfortable manner, putting his tablet on the table so Sunstreaker wouldn't feel like everything he said was being documented. Though Sunny knew that everything was being recorder by Ratchet's memory files, talk about a false sense of security. "You know why you are here, in my office, right?"

Sunstreaker shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his mind heading straight to his cod piece… he hadn't got to put a rag under his crotch plating for dripping. He just knew when he stood up it was going to drip down his leg and probably onto Ratchet's chair as well. He looked back up from his thighs and up at Ratchet. The medic didn't look pissed or anything of the nature. He was calm and desolate of any emotions. He was just listening… and staring. He would not stop staring until Sunstreaker spoke and he knew it.

"Yes… you think the slaggen reject didn't get the parts he needed in the CPU," growled Sunny, his gaze falling to his hands. He had managed to grab a rag off a counter as he was dragged into Ratchet's office, but there were still reminders of the filth that had been there moment ago.

A deep sigh escaped the medic. They had a lot to go over and there was no way this was going to get over in one session. He would like to start off with talking about what happened in the medical bay but Sunstreaker was already upset, Swoop sending him a private com. stating that he was sure that Sunstreaker had been sick in his room. Troubling to say the least, but at least his systems had a natural reaction. It also meant that Sunny would be too weak to want to strike out in rage.

"Don't worry, Sunstreaker. Primus shorted the both of you on CPU components… slaggen idiots the two of you," he grumbled, trying to lighten the mood. When nothing but a frown came from the personal jargon, he continued in a profession tone, "So Sunny… I know you've had some trying circumstances lately… especially between you and your brother, and with what happened yesterday…"

Sunstreaker just glared at him, Ratchet just continued.

"Specifically, I'm worried about what happened yesterday," continued Ratchet. "And I'm worried about… trauma. Sunstreaker, tell me how you felt about it? Anything's fine, but I need you to talk about it."

Sunstreaker just continued to glare, his disagreement with the situation obvious.

"Sunstreaker… I cannot clear you for duty until we've talked about this," said Ratchet as he became stern. "Now, last night, I want you to tell me how you saw it. Where you scared? Upset? Or…"

"I wasn't scared!" finally growled Sunstreaker, his pride resting on the surface like a leaf that had just fallen on the lake's waters. "Why should I have been? He was my brother! We've shared sparks thousands of times. We've have played rough."

Ratchet was still, going over the words silently before he asked, with clear proficiency, "Then why did you just say he "was you brother" and not "is your brother"? I see that you have disjointed yourself from Sideswipe proving that you've most likely been hurt by the situation in some way?"

Sunny's optics went white and his hands grasped the rag tightly at the realization. Had he given up his brother for one night or pleasure?

And so the sentence was allowed to hang in the air, Ratchet clearly able to tell that Sunny was thinking… the answer truly terrible to Sunstreaker with the way his fans were wheezing and his optics pure-white. He didn't care how long he had Sunny had to sit here in the silence, allowing the usually closed mind to bud outward for the world to see.

Yet, just as Sunny started to open his mouth, words soon to be escaping, an alarm went off: the Decepticons. Sunstreaker felt a rise of dread and excitement at the thought of battle. Not because he'd get to fight and rip and bleed, drowning any feelings that Ratchet had tried to rouse, but because Megatron was there. Megatron had taken away his purity as well as his brother. It was probably even a lie that the warlord wanted him again. He was going to confront that bastard.

Without even thinking it over, Sunny rose and started running towards the door, his port wet and dripping. He needed something to push away the pain. He needed pain.

Ratchet rose in a hurry, his vocals growling, "Where are you going! Sunstreaker, you're off-duty! Come back here!"

The golden warrior did not stall, of course, not even when Swoop tried to grab him. He was out the door and caught in the small crowd that was running down the hall. Ratchet sighed, saving the short meeting in Sunstreaker's medical files. He better head out as well, if only to make sure the slaggen idiot didn't get himself killed. Walking past his desk though, Ratchet couldn't help but stall… on the chair where Sunny had been sitting were a few droplets of what appeared to be energon. He would have stopped and elaborated but the battle had started and things like stains could wait.

XXX

**AN: Ummm, some reviewers requested a censored version for this on Fanfiction… ugh, I did my best. For this chapter, not much was removed, some flashbacks and the detailed 'cleaning' scene. Unedited, if you are of age, links below. Remove spaces. **

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	6. Momentary Freedom

Chapter 6: Momentary Freedom

His luck was absolutely terrible.

Though, he had actually managed to get the whole way to the battle field, to rage, to rip and to hate all he wanted. He didn't want to talk about his emotions, his suffering, and his faults. He wanted to be strong. Not weak and helpless… the second born. Too bad, just as he was about to rush forward and meet the line of Decepticon's with a square punch to the face, a white arm lashed out and the next thing he knew he was pulled behind the main line by a very angry Prowl.

"What are you doing here?" demanded the tactician in his usual professional tone, though Sunny could tell that the cruiser was eyeing every visible inch of Sunstreaker. Probably seeing if he was injured. It was undoubtedly a widespread rumor by now that Sunstreaker was confined to Ratchet's care… and that he wasn't supposed to be anywhere near this battlefield.

"To fight," added Sunstreaker quickly not wanting to blurt out the truth, blood and pleasure. "I'm an Autobot!"

"An off duty Autobot who was left to Ratchet's care," added Prowl as he quickly looked over the battlefield, searching for said medic. "Which means you are not supposed to be here. I'd discipline you for insubordination but that's not my choice right now, its Ratchet's."

Sunstreaker felt his rage rise and pulled his arm away. He was about to yell at the tactician about minding his own business when a well-aimed shot hit the ground a yard or two from their location, Prowl and him were separated by a spray of dirt. Noticing an advantage when he saw one, Sunny didn't remain to help Prowl to his feet or whine about his paint getting dirty. He just wanted … relief. Instead, he ran into the fray kick a Decepticon in the chest, Prowl yelling behind him through the smoke and dust.

"Sunstreaker!"

Sunny knew he'd pay for this; the tactician was already pissed about when he slammed him into the wall, but he'd suffer the consequences later. He had just spotted what he wanted across the battlefield…

…

Sunstreaker's spark lurched and his tanks turned, his optics desperately searching the landscape for an opening so he could get to his pain medication: Megatron. He knew it was wrong, his Autobot programming was screaming he should be doing anything else but this. He should be taking down a flier, relieve his superior –Prowl- of his worry and do as he was told, shoot some poor slagger in the aft, but no… he knew he was not going to fight today or listen to a superior. He was in pain and he needed to get away.

Finally spotting an opening, Sunstreaker got to his feet and started to run towards the Deception's side and up the hill where Megatron was located. He knew this was stupid, that any minute now Prime would probably be up the hill as well, challenging the warlord to a one on one scrimmage.

He ran through the fray of bullets and gunfire nonetheless. He was running for peace, for release, though it didn't seem as such to the ones around him. As far as everyone else was concerned, Sunstreaker was running for cover from the Seekers' barrage on the battlefield. Some, such as First Aid, Prowl, or Ratchet, would think that he was running from them. In truth, they probably were all correct in way or the other, but in Sunny's mind he only had one objective: a release from pain.

Megatron.

He knew that he was ripped up slightly and that he should be thinking about anything but trying to get behind the main line and locate the cause of his injury, but suffering and pain were not, in fact, the same thing. The thought of Sideswipe's new lover, of his near rape by his own brother, the revelation to the whole base that he was the second born, his breakdown in the medical bay, and the mental examination; it was easy to say that he as suffering. Megatron was pain. Pain wasn't always a bad thing. It reminded you that you were alive.

And Megatron was the first one to make him feel alive in a long time.

There was just war, rage, and his brother. He had never had such a release, a completeness. When his spark grasped Megatron, he felt something new; something he thought only belonged to his brother. He liked it. It felt familiar, and he was claimed all at the same time as if he now was a possession, wanted. He needed to feel that rush so he could keep it deep inside and maybe, maybe, he could use it to get through his torture that was his false brother.

Stalling halfway up the huge incline of grass which belonged to the dam, vents heaving, he smiled. Not a hungry or lusty grin, but one of relief like he was meeting an old lover who held continued affections, the one that had gotten away.

There he was, Megatron, standing on top of the hill near the dam's main control room, the humans since retreated and the energon being cubed a few yards away. The warlord was watching over them like a hawk and was probably waiting to do his usual tango with Prime.

Yet, despite the promise release, Sunstreaker's hand became a fist. The slagger had defiling his title of Autobot, the cause of banishment of his brother's bond, so why would he want more of the warlord Perhaps it was just a physical need of his spark, the want to stabilize… Yes, that was it, and something to dull the burn of hate and pain inside him. He'd frag the warlord here on the battlefield if he had to. He just needed five minutes. Just five minutes and perhaps he could live the next few days pain free, absent.

Feet suddenly feeling heavy, he struggled to place one in front of the other. He was going to climb up the remainder of this incline and tell the slagger he didn't care if everyone on this battlefield though he was being raped. He needed relief. He needed it now.

He barely even got to the top of the hill thought when he found himself having a gun pressed into his back, his intake freezing in shock.

He offline his optics and cursed himself with every human curse word he could think of. He had been so one-minded he forgot the most important thing about Megatron: he was surrounded by Decepticons. Slowly onlining his optics, he turned his head slightly to see a flash of blue. He should have known. Where ever Megatron was, Soundwave was never far behind.

"Diagnosis: badly planned assassination plan," stated the mech as he pressed the gun roughly into Sunny's back. The Communications Specialist knew that Megatron enjoyed the interface he had gotten from this particular Autobot the other day, but today wasn't in some no-man's desert, it was on the battle field. On the battlefield there were no lovers, only soldiers and Sunstreaker was still an Autobot.

Sunny raised his hands, trying to be docile though he had a gun to his back. It took a lot of self-control not to yell out profanities, instead stating, "I just want to talk to Megatron before Optimus gets up here."

Opening up his telepathic connection towards the 'Bot to see the truth, he immediately recoiled. Sunstreaker's mind was in complete shambles when it came to emotions. Emotions were hard for the 'Con and that was one reason he hated his ability of being an telepath; he just didn't understand emotions. There was want there, no doubt about that, but also hate and rage and regret. It was hard to say which emotions would be enacted at his glorious leader, but it was easy to tell that all that energy was directed at the gun-former.

Soundwave knew he had to be careful about this, but neither would he deny Megatron the sight of his little, interface model. Sunstreaker was the only reason they were attacking the dam as a full force today and winning. Megatron had a clarity and a drive he hadn't had in months… a pompous pride was helping him win this battle. Maybe his lord should get laid more often.

Pressing the buttons on his chest he stated, "Ravage, Rumble, Frenzy: release."

Immediately, all the cassettes popped out of the tape-rack's chest and transformed, landing with gapping expressions that soon became snide smiles. The twins automatically laughed, and quickly both ran up and kicked Sunny in the shin, earning a growl from the Autobot but nothing more.

"Wo, boss-bot. You caught one of the front-liners. You want us to watch you offline him?" snicker Rumble as he eyed the hellion. He was going to enjoy this.

"Negative," stated the blue mech as he pressed the gun deeper into Sunny's back, forcing him to walk the last few yards towards the warlord that had yet to notice what was happening behind him. "You are backup. It will be Megatron's decision."

"You going to let him execute the mean slagger in front of the other Auto-dorks?" added Frenzy. "Great idea, boss bot. Let's watch the Auto-slag cry!"

Soundwave, noticing the waves of hate radiating off the sun-colored mech, said nothing. It was a short walk to Megatron but he didn't need the front-liner turning on him. Sunstreaker was renowned for a reason: he was mean.

Strangely, the 'Con didn't get to see that renowned truth with the few minutes it took to get the slagger up to Megatron. His voice, emotionless as possible, called out his leader's title, "Lord Megatron: Autobot apprehended trying to sneak up behind you. Directives as to what to do with Autobot?"

The warlord turned with a cold glare, his red orbs making Sunstreaker's spark skip. In lust or fear, Sunstreaker wasn't sure. Not that it mattered. The cold gaze quickly turned into a surprised one, even a hurt one.

"Ah… Sunstreaker," stated Megatron, his feet heavy as he walked over the hostage. "Not the Autobot I was expecting. I certainly wanted to see you again… but not like this. It seems that our night in the desert was a onetime thing, yes?"

Sunstreaker, not knowing how else to convince the warlord that he had, indeed, come to be conquered, pulled an arm free from the blue mech and immediately molested the larger mech, getting his point across well as he captured those surprised lips in a hungry kiss.

Soundwave immediately let go of the golden warrior, his mind suddenly getting why Sunny wanted Megatron. It sure the pit wasn't so he could shoot the Decepticon; he wanted _angry_ interfacing.

Ravage, meanwhile, choked and the two twins gasped, echoing everyone else's thoughts, "He just molested Megatron!"

Then there was silence amongst the cassettes, looks of horror covering their faces, Ravage even going so far as to cover his face with a paw. This is why they needed to be an escort, to witness something none of them should ever see? Megatron, for Primus sake, already had a lecherous grin on his face, grabbed the sun-colored warrior by the arm. He slammed the smaller mech against his chassis, growled, and stated in a lustrous voice, "I know I said I wanted to do this again with you… but right now really isn't the time."

Sunstreaker paid his growl no mind, his hand already trying to reach between the war lord's legs and release the latches to the cod piece. His voice breathy and desperate as he stated, "I want it now! I don't care if everyone on this field sees and thinks you're raping me. I … want … you … to… take … me!"

Still a little overcome with Sunstreaker's need, Megatron finally muttered, "I-I need a look out. Prime's bound to be n-nearby. I-I'm going over to the building, o-out of sight."

Ravage whined and turned his back, Soundwave coughed, saluting, and turning his back as well, thoughts jumbled. He thought his lord only liked femmes for lovers… but there was a first time for everything, wasn't there? Something he had no plans on watching.

…

Elsewhere…

"Time to dance, Prime," cackled Rumble, Optimus struggling to keep his balance along with a nearby Inferno.

Frenzy wince, grabbing onto his twin's waist to keep his balance, "Why do we hav' to take on the Prime? Meg's should be down here; not up there doing… _stuff_."

The two twins wince at the thought, not innocent but still young enough that they thought it disgusting. They didn't really want to know who their boss's boss was fragging.

Rumble nodded, stating, "Yea' bro, which is why I'd rather take on the Prime. It keeps me from thinking about … _stuff_."

…

Sunny, immediately, choked a cry that echoed over the whole battlefield, "M-Megatron!"

Megatron moaned as they both collapsed against the wall, done with their lovemaking, the warlord giving a breathy whisper, "Sunstreaker"

And, with that word, Sunstreaker was hooked. It was purely a sexual relationship, but it was his relationship, and Megatron was _his_. Sideswipe could go frag himself. Though, given that fact that he directly disobeyed, to shorten the rising list, everyone, it might be a while until he'd get to have his large warlord again. That thought it mind, he buried his head in the other's neck as Megatron slowly sank to his knees, Sunstreaker's back losing paint to the wall he was pressed against.

Megatron looked up with blurred optics, slurring, "What is it Soundwave?"

His words were simple yet caused Megatron to pull away from his lover, "Optimus Prime is coming."

Sunny started to overcome his fuzzy feeling as the warlord pulled away and slowly turned his head, hoarsely whispering, "W-wait. When will I see you again?"

Megatron turned and grinned, "The next battle, probably."

Sunny wanted to say more but he didn't even get to mutter a word when a semi came rushing up the hill, nearly running Megatron down like a deer on the road. The slagger managed to jump out of the way just in time though, semi wheels spitting up mud. Soundwave, who was going to see if Sunstreaker was damaged since he had yet to stand, turned to help his lord, offering a rag before he ran in his leader's direction. Sunny, wanting to hide any fluids, quickly stuck it under his cod piece, clicking it shut.

Standing quickly, wanting to get away from the crime scene, realizing how bad this looked with the small pool of fluids and energon. Sunstreaker wasn't even allowed a small dash when he legs gave out due to the ache that was now in his neither regions, and he found himself falling down backwards towards the hill.

This was going to hurt.

He didn't even get down the hill though when a red hand lashed out, pulling him down into almost a protective ball as gunshots rained where he had just been standing on top of the hill, the cassettes growling and Megatron raging. Sunstreaker, so caught in the moment, was about to strike out and kill the slagger who had touched him until he turned around and saw two blue optics looking at him.

Angry, blue optics.

"Ratchet?" croaked Sunstreaker in worry. Had he cleaned himself up well enough?

"Idiot, fraggen slagger!" growled the medic as he kept low and tried to drag his patient with him. "Not only did you run off, you tried to take on Megatron! We heard your scream halfway across the battlefield!"

Prowl, who had Cliffjumper at his bumper, slid to a stop and quickly assisted the medic in dragging Sunstreaker away from the pending battle between Optimus Prime and Megatron, Cliffjumper pulling out a gun and taking up the rear.

Sunstreaker blushed, feeling like an idiot. That wasn't a pained cry, but it certainly was a loud one. He quickly tried to rise to his feet and walk of his own free will, but Ratchet soon stalled behind the cover of a heavy wall. Prowl immediately nodded to the medic, offering a glare at Sunstreaker as he watched Ratchet scan the mech before going to assist Brawn.

Ratchet waved him off as Cliffjumper kneeled down nearby to protect the patient and the team's medic, grumbling, "Your systems are stressed, hotter than slag they are. I'd be surprised if you haven't melted something! Your back is in shambles though not bleeding and there are also a multitude of other scratches, though none of them seem extensive. It also seems your legs have regained motor functions since your initial fall. The Slag Maker might have been shaken some loose from a harsh throw or punch. Slaggen idiot! Just wait until we get back to the base!"

Nonetheless, there was a bang as Ratchet hit him with a wrench.

"What was that for?" Sunstreaker yelled, grabbing his helm.

"For being stupid enough to think you could take on Megatron! If you think a wrench was horrible, just wait until Optimus gets to talk to you. You know he doesn't like anyone confronting Megatron in melee combat. The slagger's huge!"

Sunstreaker continued to rub his head, not liking the look cliffjumper was giving him as he whispered, "You have no idea."

XXX

**Paw07: All the fun scenes removed… obviously. Links below for uncensored versions if you are age: **

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	7. Wanting A Lover

Chapter 7: Wanting a Lover

It has been a few days –a human week or more- after the battle with Megatron. Well, it was a battle for the rest of the men; it was a sweet release to Sunstreaker. He couldn't stop thinking of that choking lust filled whimper of his name when Megatron collapsed against him. The thought that Megatron loved it as much as he did, made Sunny feel aroused at the thought.

Not that he could do anything about the arousal…

Ratchet was watching him like a hawk, seeing if he'd even twitch in agony or break down into a collection of woe. Well, he might want to whimper about his sore nether regions but so far he wasn't going anywhere near his emotional messes. At least not for a while, and at least Ratchet was better than Prowl or Prime. He just knew they were both dogging for him when he got out of Ratchet's detention. His audios would never stop ringing… especially Prime. The leader was actually mad (good natured Prime, can you believe that) at Sunstreaker for allegedly, not that anyway really saw him fighting the Con, for taking on Megatron.

"That berth still isn't clean," stated Ratchet as he walked by with a digi-pad, not even looking up from the item as he headed over to Ironhide's berth, interrupting Sunny's thoughts.

Sunstreaker growled in reply, feeling some of his normal rage rise to the surface as he threw the rag onto the berth and growled at the mech, "It is slaggen clean! I would know! I shine myself every single day so I think I know how to slaggen wax metal! I've waxed every fraggen berth in here and surface for the last slaggen week except the ones with bodies on them!"

Ratchet, who had continued to walk over the gun-ho idiot, didn't even stall as he helped the red mech sit up. He even started looking over the Weapon Specialist's welding before he even bothered to reply.

"And once those berths are _empty_ you'll wax them as well. This is your _punishment_ for going onto the battle field when you weren't _cleared_ to do so, and since I haven't had time to give you that _psyche_ evaluation due to all the injuries during the battle, you're staying in here until I _clear_ you," grumbled the mech enunciating every few words. "Besides, your brother is getting out of the brig today. Since he hasn't been assigned a babysitter yet, and because you are still under my care, you are stuck in the medical bay."

The good feeling… was gone.

Sunstreaker had actually managed to wipe away all thoughts of his brother, replacing the slagger's warm red hands with Megatron's and brother's warm spark… with Megatron's powerful one. He knew it wouldn't last. He knew even when he was fragging Megs on that hill that the world would come crashing down sooner or later. It just felt much better when he forgot that fact.

"A-are you sure?"

Ratchet stilled suddenly, a worried look coming over his face, and he was about to come over and probably ask if Sunstreaker wanted to talk about it. Sunny straitened his shoulders and pressed away his look of worry with his usually stoic frown.

"W-hat I mean is, that if he's getting out today, I need to get some stuff out of my… his room," added the yellow mech quickly and far more confidently. He had left that mess from his cleaning and puke the other day on the floor. He needed to clean that up and get some things. His wax, his paints, and any proof that he had even been in there.

Ratchet was still frowning but clicked his com link. His optics brightened as he got ahold of undoubtedly Prowl and stated, "Perhaps, Sideswipe won't be out for a while and you are looking at little… faded. You might want to get some of your paint wax."

Sunny glared at the medic's horrible try at humor, a growling coming from his engine.

Coughing off the glare he got from the younger mech at the paint crack, Ratchet turned to look at Ironhide who seemed ready to get up and run if the medic left. Suspiciously eyeing Ironhide, the medic then turned to look at Sunstreaker who was acting… twitchy. Well, he still hadn't had a report that Sideswipe had gotten out of the brig so he figured Sunstreaker could be allowed to rush to his room and get some supplies. He had been watching him like a hawk for days now. Letting out a grunt through his vents, Ratchet waved him off, stating, "It's not Sideswipe room anymore, but he will need to get his stuff. You have half an hour to grab whatever you want. If you are not back by then, I will send Prime himself to fetch you."

Sunstreaker stood there a moment and blinked his optics on and then off, almost not believing his luck. Then, forgetting his interface equipment, turned rather harshly and was about to start running when he hissed.

The welding behind him stopped almost immediately, and Ratchet looked up, growling, "Was that your leg? I noticed that you have been a little stiff, but I just thought it was the new parts. It should have healed by now."

Ratchet turned from his patient and gave Sunstreaker the optic as he asked, "Is it just the new parts or are you really in pain?"

Sunstreaker squirmed, his hand reflexively placing itself over his cod piece. In truth, his leg still ached a little from the new parts but not enough to make him limp. His interface equipment hurt like slag. Megatron had really made him bleed like a little virgin; that second fragging hurt his insides. He knew at this point he should really ask Ratchet to look at it and sooth away the soreness and possible energon infection… but he found he liked the soreness late at night. Each throb of slight pain that came from the healing equipment reminded him of Megatron and their lovemaking. He knew it was wrong to think that way, even sick, to think of Megatron in such a way, but he was reminded daily that no one was there.

No one wanted him. No one but Megatron.

"It's nothing. The new parts ache a little at night but it doesn't hurt. I just don't want to rip it up again so I allowed my knee to go out," replied Sunstreaker, not knowing what else to say.

Ratchet shifted and looked the mech up and down before nodding his head and waving the mech off, stating, "Well, if it still hurts in a few days, I'm going to look at my work. Damage might have been sustained on the battlefield. Now, get moving… you're down to twenty-seven minutes."

Sunstreaker's optics went wide for a moment and he found himself turning to the door at a jogging pace, minding his port. Maybe while he was in his room, cleaning up that mess, he would take a look at his interfacing equipment and give it a decent cleaning.

…

It was dark in here.

It was as if the night had been forsaken by everything that offered light… even the fireflies. He was forced to stay still in that forever darkness, waiting for the sunlight that may never come. He could not move until then. There were gaping holes all around him waiting to devour him with one false step. He had nearly fallen in already, allowing his spark to be eaten and turned like a Decepticons.

He had nearly raped Sunny.

The red form twitched at the thought in the dark, hand reaching up and placing it on his chassis. He tried not to wince as he felt the scratched paint. He had gone stark raving mad when he had been woke up after being taken away from Sunstreaker. He had thrashed at the mechs, his companions, trying to get back into the medical bay and finish what he started. He was going to make his brother hear him. Sunstreaker was being selfish. He always got Sideswipe's attention and the moment he wanted to give some of that attention to another, Sunstreaker acted like he was the one that was wronged.

Well…

Yes, the second born comment was harsh… but he did regret it and had tried to apologize. He was even going to show his shame for the comment when they bonded. He was going to reveal and say so many things that words could not. He needed to bond with his brother.

He had just gone the wrong way about doing it.

Sideswipe knew he had to be calm now. He had all but attacked Prime when the big mech had tried to subdue him after he tried to rip Inferno and Ironhide apart. His commander was not the least bit amused, especially when he heard about what Sideswipe had nearly done to his own twin. The leader had been a vents breath away from sending Sideswipe away to the far reaches of space to some unknown base with some no-name Autobots.

Basically a prison sentence.

Sideswipe had been spared though, from a simple confession. While Prime stood over him, outside the bars, demanding the reason for his actions as Ratchet patched up his scrapes and scratches, Sideswipe had broken down into a fit of sobbing. He admitted that he was scared… he couldn't feel Sunstreaker and went about it in all the wrong way. Twins needed each other to remain alive and unless Prime himself was going to lay down with his brother, they needed to bond to stabilize each other.

Prime had sighed and asked Ratchet it if was true. The medic had snarled, slammed a wrench over Side's helm, cursed him for being right, and stated in a cold tone, "Twins shouldn't be separated no matter the circumstances… especially if one of them doesn't have a partner of some kind… and if the conversation I heard about happening in the rec. room is true..."

Sideswipe was about to thank him for agreeing that Sunstreaker needed him, but Ratchet's glare was cruel and truthfully unforgiving.

"But forcing it will only heed the bond. Sunstreaker will become reluctant to even bond with anyone and slowly disintegrate until his spark fades," added Ratchet with a snarl, his voice getting softer. "We should allow Sunstreaker to decide if and when he wants to bond with Sideswipe. It shouldn't be forced in any form. If it takes too long and his spark starts to suffer… as a medic I can offer _services_ in spark stabilization."

The red mech had to ball his hands into fists to stop from punching the medic in the face, his mind imagining the medic between his brother's legs, spiking him and moaning like a bitch. He held his temper though… he'd win back his brother's spark or at least find him a suitor that he approved of. He loved Ratchet as anyone can love a medic that threatened their life at least twice a week, but his brother was the dominat kind. Sunstreaker needed a nice mate that would allow him to be on top. He would never be the recessive.

And that was the promise, to himself, that allowed him to sit still on that brig's berth as Prowl read him the regulations he'd have to follow once he was released.

He could not be on patrol with Sunstreaker.

He could no longer bunk with Sunstreaker.

He could not be in the same room with Sunstreaker, alone.

He could not touch Sunstreaker without permission.

Teletron and high ranking officials all knew these rules and would not hesitate to report him and have his aft removed from base and relocated to another one for an undisclosed amount of time.

Sideswipe had agreed with a broken whisper. It hurt, especially the last one, but he had sat there, optics down cast as he nodded to Prowl's arrangement. The final question, of course, nearly made Sideswipe weep in front of the stoic tactician.

Prowl continued without missing a note, "I'm not the type to listen to idle rumors, but Bluestreaker and you are in a serious relationship, correct?"

Sideswipe nodded.

"Good, then I suppose we can transfer you into Bluestreaker room and Sunstreaker will most likely be allowed to stay in his room… though he will most likely get a roommate due to space constraints. Hound is the likeliest candidate since he will be losing a room. Is that fine?" asked Prowl, looking up from his data pad as he stood in front of the cell, wings high.

A small whine escaped his vocalizer. The near rape, the confession of birth order, and Sunstreaker's block had all felt surreal up until this point. Until now. Reality was crashing down and it was harsh. He just wanted to curl up into a ball and wish it away… but he still wanted Blue. With a broken spark, he nodded his head. And with a few signatures, Sideswipe found himself standing and being frowned upon by Jazz. The usual light hearted air was not around the jubilant mech.

He was serious.

"You cooled down, Sides?" asked the saboteur, his frown deep. "Only the higher ups know what exactly you tried to do to Sunstreaker. The rest of the base thinks you just attacked your brother and that you are not allowed to be alone with him, got me? Truthfully, I think you deserve more of a punishment, but old Ratchet's explained that twins can become desperate and distressed if the other isn't around. So, I'll have an open mind about this arrangement."

Sideswipe nodded, and stated softly, "So, when can I talk to Sunstreaker?"

Jazz just frowned, visor going dark for a moment, "Whenever Ratchet gives the okay. For now, let's go to your old room and get some paint and wax … you look terrible. Then we'll go pack your stuff and then Hound's things."

The saboteur's touch was light on his arm as he led him away, a ghost of a smile appearing. Sideswipe knew that smile was half false, but at least the Jazz-ster was trying. Maybe in a few weeks everything would be back to normal. Sunstreaker would be by his side again and everyone would stop frowning at him.

He wasn't a slaggen Decepticon.

…

It took him longer to get to his room that what he would have liked, but his pride was an expensive thing. He had to take back ways that Red Alert barely knew in order to ignore running into anyone unsavory. It was worth it though, not a soul had seen him… unless you counted Red Alert. One of the slagger's cameras probably caught him.

Placing his hand on the door pad, the room slid open. Sunstreaker frowned. He could barely smell the stale and partially digested energon in the room. Turning on the lights, he decided it was best to start by cleaning. Ratchet did state that the room was no longer Sideswipe's… but it didn't feel like his anymore either.

Perhaps it was best to leave this place abandoned, like the past it was.

Shaking off such depressing thoughts, he decided he would worry about all his things later and just get what he needed. Wax was a must, maybe a pad-sketcher and some of his favorite digi-pads.

He also needed to care for his interface equipment, it was starting to really hurt. Ratchet had even given notice.

…

Sideswipe held Bluestreak's hand loosely in his as they both walked down the hall. Blue was uncharacteristically silent, but the young mech was upset. He hadn't been able to visit his lover since the red mech had been placed into the brig. Side's hadn't told him about all that had transpired, but he supposed he would have too soon… not that the youth didn't know enough already as it was.

"I heard," stated Blue in a strangely sullen tone. "That you attacked Sunstreaker in the medical bay… Prowl and the other higher officers were really angry about it, especially Ratchet. You and Sunny fight all the time… what did you do?"

There was blame in that tone and guilt. Blue hadn't wanted anything to happen like this… not over their relationship. He wanted Sunny to be happy as well. He just wanted everyone to have a little love because one never knew how long they had during war.

"Nothing I can't fix," replied Sideswipe, full of determination as he looked ahead.

Bluestreak was silent, his frown unfailing, "And how are you going to do that?"

Jazz's visor flickered as he glanced over his shoulder at the two love birds, his spark throbbing as he heard the eldest twin state, "I don't know yet."

…

The mess was cleaned up and a few of his choice items packed away into his subspace. Sunny was looking at his last chore before heading back his prison cell of a medical bay. This was going to slaggen hurt. He hoped it wasn't too bad.

Placing his cleaning and med kit on his berth, Sunstreaker grunted at the soreness and leapt onto his berth, wincing. His aching equipment was bothersome. Regardless… just as well as get this done.

First thing, he noticed when he opened his cod piece was that he was bleeding, again! But the size was too impressive to complain. Just thinking of their lovemaking was arousing him like a sex depraved fool. Finally noticing that this reminiscing was making his equipment react, Sunstreaker decided that since he had to clean down there anyway, he just as well's get some pleasure out of it. He knew he should be heading back to the harpie but satisfying himself wouldn't take too long.

True, self-pleasuring wasn't something he had ever really bothered with since his brother always knew when he was horny and either they would combine their sparks or find some unknowing victim. But, his brother wasn't here anymore. All he had was himself … and memories of Megatron.

Offlining his optics and lying on his berth and he started his lonely work.

Soon, his spark was starting to thrash in its casing. It still felt a little odd, but there was no doubt in his mind that he was sore from the treatment in the desert. Not that it mattered, soon he was going to fall into overload bliss and nothing would ache, not even his memories of his brother. Just a little farther, just a little …

"Uh… are we interrupting something?"

Overload was taken from him as well as the ghostly feeling of Megatron's lips on his. The yellow worrier flew up, his optics wide and surprised as he stared over the edge of his berth. There in the doorway, two pairs of blue optics and a visor shimmered in gloom. Jazz had been the one to speak and was now struggling to hide his Chesimire cat grin.

Slowly, Sideswipe came forward, trying not to get too close because he wasn't even supposed to be near his brother, Sunstreaker wasn't even supposed to be in here, but Jazz had allowed him to grab a few things out of the kindness of his spark. He had thought they would merely sneak in and grab some things. That thought was quickly abolished when the door had opened and they all had heard whimpering pains quickly followed by soft groans. He couldn't stop himself from stepping in regardless of Jazz's sudden stiffness, part of him wondering if maybe his brother was finally not alone on his berth and had found his own bed companion.

Maybe everything was okay now.

Yet, his mild hope was dashed. It seemed nothing could yet return to normal. In fact, this wasn't normal when he took in the whole scene. Sunstreaker was actually self-servicing and quite wantonly by the looks of it. Primus, who was he imagining as a partner?

Somehow finding himself standing over his brother despite Jazz warning, Sideswipe tried to banish any angry feels he had towards his brother and put on a mask, mustering false amusement so it would feel like old times and nothing had changed.

A false Chesimire grin quickly struggled to consume Sideswipe's face as he walked a little closer towards his brother's legs to peak in between, not once touching his brother as he watched Jazz watching him out of the corner of his optic. The twin couldn't help but whistled, "Blimy, who the hell you imagining there Sunstreaker? Almost half of your hand's up there."

Sunstreaker growled, wondering briefly how his brother had gotten in here but had a feeling it had something to do with the babysitters, Jazz. Slowly, he pulled his fingers out, promising he would continue once his brother was gone, and growled, "At least I'm not fucking a sparkling."

Sideswipe frowned, part of him feeling the rage he had felt in the rec room weeks ago rise once more in his chest and slam through their bond that Sunstreaker had blocked off for the most part. At least with his brother in such a hyped stated he couldn't block everything and there was this feeling of hurt and passion just barely bleeding through. In fact, now that he was standing next to his brother for the first time in weeks, he also noticed something was off physically and not just emotionally, his brother's spark reaching out.

The first thing that came to mind was that his brother's spark was in need of a bonding to help it return to a equilibrium. He had Bluestreak; his brother had no one… that he knew of. Well, Bluestreak and he had discussed this already before the fight, and the youth saw nothing wrong with bonding with his brother.

Too bad he was no longer allowed the right to do such. At least not until Sunny came to him.

"It wasn't an insult, Sunstreaker, and please don't ever talk about Bluestreak that way. He is well of age," stated Sideswipe as he pushing down any feelings for anger. Getting angry wouldn't fix anything, and Blue's feelings… weren't as damaged as Sunny's right now.

"You can lie back… if you want. I-I could finish you off," whispered the older sibling, making sure to ask properly. "I-if you want me to?"

Sunstreaker glared at his other half and stated calmly, "Get out, Sideswipe. Just take whatever you wanted and let me be."

Sideswipe frowned and almost desperately begged, "Just let me finish you off Sunstreaker, and then we can bond. I'm sure that this whole fit will seem little more …"

"Fit! It's not a fit! You betrayed me! Stop acting like the victim," yelled Sunny as he rose from his berth, slammed his hands against his brother's chassis, making the red sibling slam into the wall.

Sideswipe made no move to defend himself as Sunny pressed his whole body against his brother and into the wall, a hand around his neck as he ignored Jazz's pleas to stop this. Sideswipe could care less… at least Sunny was touching him he supposed. It also meant that Jazz would be unlikely to interrupt. He had heard Ratchet speaking with the other high officers. He knew he wasn't allowed to force himself on Sunny and that if any interfacing or bonding occurred, Sunstreaker had to initiate it.

And Sunny liked it hard…

"Then why does it hurt so much! Do you think that you are the only one who feels betrayed! I wanted to love someone else other than you but that does not mean I do not love you!" Sideswipe cried, his optics shivering as his vocals started to whine. His hands were almost desperate as he reached for his brother, fingers shivering as he touched his brother's chest and hip.

"Please, let me touch you. Let me show you. It has been weeks since you bonded… please, you're already … started," begged Sideswipe as he slowly slid a hand up over to his brother's neck to cup his chin and gently finger behind his ear fin.

With the sensual touch, Sunstreaker's spark suddenly seemed to ignite with need. Slag, was he really that desperate for a bond? Was his spark so unstable? True, he hadn't bonded with anyone since his first time with Megatron but even with just equipment interfacing, there would be some residual spark energy that would jump onto the partner. He didn't know the next time he would see Megatron and… and… slag his spark hurt.

Jazz's optic band brightened for a moment as he watched not Sideswipe take the initiative but Sunstreaker, the yellow mech roughly slamming his brother against the wall and then pressed a rather violent kiss.

Jazz chocked at the scene. Trying not to blush, the sport's car turned to look at a presently blushing sniper and grabbed the youth by the hand, walking out of the room and telling the youth, "It's natural for twins, Blue. Just… wait out here."

Jazz went back to the door, peaking in as he watched Sideswipe started to touch his brother back. This was going somewhere fast.

Comm. link buzzing to life, Jazz thought it best to talk to the medic first before he rain down any higher command's fury, 'Ratchet! Ratchet! Come in. It's Jazz.'

'Are you maimed or bleeding? I have other things to do… like finding Sunstreaker. Slagger should have been back minutes ago,' growled the medic over the comm.

'Well, I solved that problem then. He's still in his room… with Sideswipe… and things are getting heavy if you know what I mean,' added Jazz, lip twitching as he watched Sunny for a moment. Man, Sunny was desperate.

'What! Separate them! Are you just standing there!' yelled the medic as he suddenly turned heel, sliding and nearly falling on his face as he made for the twin's old room.

'Well, maybe if Sides was the one who started it, but he'd be in the brig already if that was the deal. Let's just say Sunstreaker looks like he is the one that's about to rape Sides and you can't rape the willin',' added Jazz as he watched Sunny deepen the kiss, Side's moaning at the actions occurring behind Jazz's back.

The medic stalled in the hall in surprise. He hadn't thought it had been that long for Sunstreaker but maybe it had. His running pace turning into a walking one, and he continued, 'So, Sunny is the one initiating this?'

'Well, yeah. This isn't going to last much longer. Side's is heading for the treasure trove if you get me? Should I separate them or…'

'No… let them be though watch them. If Sunstreaker starts say no, separate them otherwise enjoy the show. I think Sunstreaker's spark needs to be stabilized and that's why he's so forward. You are to send Sunstreaker back to the medical bay when they are done though. I have a feeling emotions are still sour and this is being done out of desperation,' added the medic as he started for his ward.

"I always knew you supported voyeurism, you old pervert. Jazz out,' stated the saboteur as he turned off the com, peaking into the door only to see that Sideswipe had somehow gotten his brother back on the berth, the yellow twin below him. Jazz merely waved Blue off to get some after-lovin' energon and closed the door, taking a seat in the corner to watch.

'Do you really have to watch?' asked Sideswipe over the comm. link to Jazz as he started to work on his brother. There was no need for foreplay but Sunstreaker had yet to open his chassis and reveal his spark. Interfacing was fun on its lonesome, but they really needed to bond. Maybe he had to get a little farther.

Pushing his sibling down against the berth and pinning him, Sunstreaker just stared up at him in lust, his optic nearly offlining as he felt a pair of unpredictable and familiar fingers make their way downward. And for a moment, Sunstreaker felt himself completely giving in, circuits buzz with a lazy bliss and part of him wondering if he should open his chassis.

Yet, at the same time when Sideswipe started his work … he noticed something wrong with his brother's equipment ,especially when Sunstreaker whimpered … in pain.

Sideswipe found himself stopping and asking, "What's wrong? I wasn't rough."

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong," whispered Sunny. Slag, he was really ripped up, wasn't he?

Sideswipe paid his brother no mind and quickly slid down on his brother's legs a little and turned on his headlights so he could see a little better in the gloom of the room. It was then that he noticed that his brother's interface equipment was raw and bleeding. Primus, that was bad. If it were him he'd be in with Ratchet, begging for something to stop the pain if he was ripped up like that.

"Y-your bleeding? Why haven't you gone to Ratchet, this is bad Sunny," replied Sideswipe, barely noting that Jazz had gotten to his feet and now had the same expression of horror.

"You are not my babysitter! Its none of your business. Get off!" growled Sunny as he looked at Jazz's expression of horror.

Sides did not get off his brother, instead his voice squeak in horror as he asked the first thing that came to mind, "Did you do this to yourself? Why did you do this? I'm helping you to the medical bay. Now where is your cod piece?"

"Get off! You're not taking me anywhere. I'm no longer your responsibility," growled Sunstreaker, rage rising to the surface as the lust disappeared.

When the elder sibling didn't do as asked, he shoved his brother rather violently, Sideswipe giving a choked scream as he fell off his brother's legs and onto the floor.

Jazz was quick to help the downed sibling and would have reprimand Sunstreaker, but the young mech was already off the berth and wincing. He was heading towards the door, slipping on his cod piece without a rag, energon-blood dripping down his leg. He'd go to the showers and…

Slag.

The door hadn't even slipped open completely when he notice who was standing there.

Ratchet …

… Who was now speaking with Bluestreak, undoubtedly about twin bonds. The medic stalled long enough to look the yellow mech up and down, before his optics blinked.

It was a comm. link, no doubt from Jazz, who was now stepping behind him. The healer's optics turned towards Sunstreaker's cod piece and his tone was surprisingly worried, "Sunstreaker… is that energon?"

XXX

**Paw07: All the fun scenes removed… obviously. Links below for uncensored versions if you are age: **

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	8. Prying Hands

Chapter 8: Prying Hands

Sunny swallowed nervously, suddenly feeling like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. The Hatchet in the front and the third in command, behind. Slag. He could just plow by, but then Sideswipe would freak out.

Slag.

Slag.

Slag!

Slag it all to the pit.

"Sunstreaker," added the medic a little more forcefully as he stepped forward and forcefully grabbed the frontliner by his forearm so there would be no escape. "I asked you a question."

Swallowing, trying not to sound guilty for he knew he couldn't outright deny it, "Nothing… just a little rough loving."

"Rough," growled the medic, automatically, eyeing Sideswipe who suddenly came into view, putting on his cod piece and limping out into the hall.

Jazz caught the look immediately, "Don't blame red there. It wasn't him. Sunstreaker… I think you should go with Ratchet."

There was no play behind that usually casually-fun saboteur's voice, his shoulders becoming square.

Sunstreaker threw the visored mech a growl and then added, "Don't belittle me! If I tell you I'm fine, I'm fraggen fine! Don't touch me!"

Ratchet who had reached to touch him, immediately put his hands up noticing that this was going to become violent quickly, stating, "Fine, just calm down. I just want to clean you up. No need for violence. There's no need to… calm down."

Sunstreaker wanted to strike out, wanted to throw his anger at the medic who was trying to uncover his secret, but the truth was… he needed to act cool. Freaking out would only rile up suspicion which he might already be too late for with the way Ratchet already had his hands displayed nonthreatening as if he were dealing with a mental case. Regardless, he might be able to clean himself up so that it wouldn't look so… bad. He probably looked like he violated himself with a rusting pipe.

Swallowing, he added, "Fine. I need a shower though. I haven't cleaned myself well recently."

"No," stated Ratchet, stepping in front of the other, a serious face on.

The medic knew that that wound was grievous, the energon all ready looked thick, but the glare Sunstreaker was giving him told him that he had to offer his next words with grace, "… Certain solvents are bad for wounds in such a sensitive area. Let me look at it first. I can clean the wound properly then you can go and wax yourself."

A look of disbelief covered his facial plates and Sunny added in a dangerous tone, "I know proper interfacing care, Ratchet. Just because I'm off duty and in your care doesn't mean I'm a slaggen sparkling that doesn't know how to frag someone."

His glare hit Sideswipe for a moment, ready to hiss a snide comment about no longer being a virgin to his brother, but then he felt a jaunting pin prick in the back of his neck cables and he turned. Ratchet had a needled in hand, frowning.

Slag… he had turned his back on a medic. That was like turning one's back on a Con… you just didn't do it.

His body almost immediately went fuzzy and the last thing he heard, as his optics went dark, was Ratchet barking for someone to catch him.

Slaggers… all of them.

…

"So that was why he was limping," said Ratchet as he stood over Sunstreaker's limp, unmoving form which was now on a med bay berth, Sideswipe on the opposite side holding his brother's hand and running a soothing hand over his brother's helm. Ratchet, who had a hand on either of Sunstreaker's knees, having just spread them for his first peak at the damage, stared at the red twin. He didn't want Sideswipe to be in emotional pained and Ratchet suspected why; Sunstreaker was most likely unable to up and barriers before he was knocked out and with the other twin so close, Sideswipe could probably feel emotions bleeding though the bond due to their closeness.

The utter destruction of his brother's equipment might have been the reason as well… Apparently the two were about to interface and probably bond.

"It's an older wound," stated the healer more for Jazz and Sideswipe than for anyone else. He knew they all suspected that this was Sideswipe's work and that he had finished what he started all those days ago. Both figures sagged in relief; all guilt being taken off of Sideswipe's shoulders since he had been far too detained to do such a thing.

Sideswipe was still worried though, looking far angrier now… like he had let this happen.

"Its nothing to worry about," continued Ratchet, trying to be reassuring. "It's fixable … probably will take me half of the slaggen day though. Sensitive circuitry means slow work. Its obvious it wasn't you, Sideswipe, far to old being that you've been in the brig this whole time. So, any guesses who it was?"

"I think he did it to himself," replied the red mech quickly, his voice forlorn. He could feel it. He could feel the pain and the soft agony as well as the guilt and self loathing through the bond. True, Sunstreaker had always had these emotions but never in such magnitude that Side's could feel them so easily. Where was that usual pride? That vein flavor his brother always gave off? There was just need here…

He wished he could bond with him.

Ratchet stalled for a moment, surprised. Sideswipe looked as if he were about to cry. The medic was silent for a moment before looking down at the damage. Sunstreaker was… raw, minor energon lines broken. Ratchet started to correct Sideswipe about his hypothesis but caught himself from correcting the other. Sunstreaker had found a berth buddy. One could tell by the equal strain throughout the metal. Another mech had done this… but who would be so violent? He knew there were some mechs that liked it a little rough around base but… not this badly.

He would have to a talk with the yellow mech and whomever he slept with about proper interfacing; it was best not to tell Sideswipe though. The older sibling would beat the slag out of every mech he ran into to find out who had maimed his 'virginal' brother in such a way.

"Maybe he did," said the medic finally, waving his hand to tell the red twin to go. Sideswipe didn't seem to catch the drift with how he waved his hand so Ratchet did it again. Side still didn't move so Ratchet huffed, "Get out of here, boy. I don't care if you are his brother. Your current regulator disciplines still stand, and I'm sure Sunny doesn't want his sexual exploits told to everyone."

"But," said the twin tightening, knowing what Ratchet meant. Ratchet was talking about his actions as of late. Sides hadn't meant it, hadn't meant to hurt his brother. He had just wanted to love Blue (Blue who refused to come into the medical bay, most likely upset) and for his brother to understand that this was love… not a thing to be shared like a common whore.

He should have held his tongue and waited. Now Sunstreaker was falling apart, hurting himself and undoubtedly having spark issues. How long had it been since his brother had stabilized?

The words escaped him before he could stop himself, "But… I'm worried about him."

Ratchet seemed to wilt at that, frowning softly before he added, "I know, but right now… you have to let me deal with this. Please, go. Talk to Bluestreak or something. He seemed really upset. I explained spark-bonds to him but there still seems to be misunderstand there. Now, finish moving yourself and Hound and take care of your lover. You made all this mess for him. It's best to let him know it was for him."

The medic watched as Sideswipe twitched at the last part of that statement, his hand slowly releasing his brother's, his shoulders wilting like that for sun-denied flower.

The red form leaving, Ratchet turned his attention back to the equipment. This was awful… and he had been self-servicing? Something was seriously wrong. Why would Sunny not tell him? Why would be ashamed of such an injury? Why would he still want to touch such a seriously injured wound? Was it to make himself feel sexual? Was there some kind of metal trauma from the 'virgin' comment and he had been mutilating himself ever since?

No…

He had seen this type of wound before… in rape victims.

His optics went bright, his mind following an invisible trail. The tearing was common of rape victims, some of them hiding it in just this way. They then would continue to try to make themselves feel sexual, trying to recapture normalcy such as with self-servicing.

The scream on the battlefield the other day.

Why had Sunstreaker been behind enemy lines? How had he gotten back there? Why wasn't be dead… had… had.

No. Stop thinking that way.

Sunstreaker might have been the second born but was stronger than that. He would always put up a huge fight, would have been covered his dents and wounds, not merely discombobulated with some minor walking issues.

Yes, it was probably just one of the bigger mechs on base trying to be rough and going too far. That had to be it.

That had to be it.

He'd get the name from Sunny and if the mech wouldn't tell him… well, there weren't many mechs that size on base.

…

"I am glad you agreed to do this Hound," stated Prowl as he walked down the halls with the green mech at his side, carrying the last of his things from his old room.

"Oh, I don't mind Prowl. I mean Sunstreaker seems a little more like a real bot with emotions now and not like a demon from the pit anymore," stated Hound immediately twitching, feeling a little worse for wear before even noting the slight glare he got from his commanding officer, "That came out wrong. What I mean to say is… he's far easier to relate to now. His emotions seem plausible. Secrets can make a bot bitter and cold."

Prowl's wings dripped a little and he nodded, a ghost of a smile on his face as he stated, "I'm glad you are so understanding, Hound. Sunstreaker and you have never butted heads but if he needs a friend… I'm glad to know that you will be open minded about it."

"Sure thing. Um … What does Sunstreaker think of me replacing… Sideswipe?" he asked reluctantly, the twin's fight still in his mind.

Prowl was silent for a moment, stalling in front of the door that led to what use to be Sides and Sunny's room, stating, "I don't know if he knows he's getting you as a roommate. He's been… troubles. I will inform him soon though."

Hound frowned at this but said nothing, the stoic Prowl keying in the new password and whispering it back to Hound as the door opened, adding, "And… do you know about twin bounds and there need for spark stabilization?"

Swallowing, plating pulling tight to his body, his interfacing equipment pinging at the thought of being ravaged in his own berth by a stabilization deprived mech, replied, "It's been the talk of the base… thought everyone is going to keep their mouths shut around Sideswipe. Sunstreaker, from what I heard, no longer wants to bond with Sideswipe so he has to have someone else to… fulfill the role in keeping his half-spark stabilized."

Hound swallowed, "Everyone's waiting to see who he's going to pick or if he's just going to break down and … Ratchet's going to do it for him. I thought it was a rumor but when I heard the regulations for Sideswipe… just what happened between those two in the med bay?"

Prowl's wings were twitching, fury under his plates. Were all the men waiting to see who would get to frag a 'virginal' Sunstreaker? The audacity of the rumor was enough to make Prowl want to punish most of the men, but there was no point. It was bound to get out sooner or later.

The Second in Command inclined his head just slightly, adding, "For the most point, yes, Sunny will need to stabilize. If, since you will be his roommate and will have far closer interactions, are ever approached by Sunstreaker in an intimate way you find inappropriate… feel free to comm. Ratchet and have him deal with it. Or… if you feel comfortable. I'm sure you won't take advantage."

Hound went stiff, inclining his head and adding, "Sure… I'll comm. Ratchet if I feel sexual threatened."

"Good… now welcome home," added Prowl, the lights in the room turning on. "If you ever feel that you can't handle Sunstreaker and his present circumstances, just let me know."

…

Sunny blinked his optics on and off, his form shivering when the first thing his senses decided to inform him of was that his cod piece was open and was being greeted by cool air. He moaned and slowly closed his legs, ready to sit up and look for his cod piece and get the slag out of this sensitive position.

Yet, before he could even sit up, a red hand was placed on either of his knees and a frowning Ratchet looked down at him, growling, "I wasn't done yet, spread um."

"What?" choked Sunny, trying not to note that First Aid came behind the elder medic and eyed Sunstreaker, intrigued. H-had he been a lesson for the medic's students? He saw Swoop out of the corner of his eyes, washing his hands. He offlined his optics, holding back a click of shame before he growled, "I was a lesson? Who didn't see my junk!"

"Everyone agreed that Swoop and First Aid could observe any repairs I made in order to learn. Let's just say most people don't let their equipment get ripped up and fester like that," he growled, hands tightening in a threat as he added. "And they needed to know how to treat such a wound. A wound you should have told me about days ago, slagger! You were in the bay!"

Sunstreaker twitched at the voice, the medic starting to dent his legs with his grip, yet just as quickly as the rage came, it was gone and Ratchet added, "Now, you heard me, slagger. Spread your legs so I can see if my repairs took. Replacing over half of the meta-skin is not a minor repair. Now hold still as I finish."

Sunstreaker moaned in embarrassment. This was too horrible for words.

"Don't moan at me. I wouldn't have to be doing this if it wasn't for your partner. They are far too large for you Sunstreaker. They should have been far more gentle. Now tell me who the frag you're fragging so I can slag them and maybe decrease the size of their _junk_ while I'm at it."

Wincing at the idea of Ratchet grabbing a hold of Megatron's wonderful equipment and defiling it almost made him sick. Not that the medic noticed, he just continued to rant.

"The slagger should have given you a few minutes or so to adjust to the size," barked the medic as the threw a dirty rag to the side, "Well… will you be giving me that name? Is it a permanent or a one night stand kind of thing? I need to know. I can tell already that your spark is starting to get deprived," added the medic, taking something from First Aid in a bottle and squirting it on his hands.

"None of your business, and what the frag is that … ahhh!"

Sunstreaker nearly bulked when Ratchet got intrusive, "What the pit!"

Ratchet ignored his patient.

"Hmmm. You still look a little raw but the new graphs are taking nicely. Hopefully the psedo-skin is functioning properly. Just as well's test it," added Ratchet suddenly, almost darkly.

He immediately tried to pull away, yelling, "What the hell! No! No! I'll test it myself! Stop!"

The medic, putting a threat in his voice, growled, "And why shouldn't I test it myself? For that matter, why won't you telling me who your partner was? You are still in my care. I could keep you off duty instead of putting you on light duty… you still haven't talked to me about your feelings, Sunstreaker."

Hating himself, for giving into a threat so easily, Sunstreaker whimpered, "F-fine. I'll t-talk every f-Friday morning if you just … let me test it, but I won't give you his name… he doesn't want anyone to know. It was a p-private thing."

Ratchet eyed the mech for a lie and when he saw no lie, growling, "Was it at least consensual?"

"Y-yes, he fucked so good. I didn't tell him it was hurting," whined Sunstreaker, hiding his face in modification as the other two medics still watched.

Ratchet observed him for a moment more and then asked, "Is your spark hurting or in need of … stabilization… its best to do it now since you … are in that position already."

"No… never. No," he reacted a moment later, trying to pull away from the medic and off of the table.

Ratchet just frowned at the childish display and pulled the yellow mech back down and stated, "I don't want to see what demented thoughts are in your spark anyway, just calm down and let Swoop clean you up. He needs the practice."

Sunny… just wished harder than ever to offline right there, on the table. He would never live this down.

A few halls later and a bidding of Optimus to come out of his room and join him for a drink, Ratchet soon found himself surround by most of the top command in the Ark. Prime was already pleasantly buzz because no one, not even Prowl, would say no to a drink when that drink involved Ratchet's special brew.

… Though Prowl did note that this better be made for medical purposes.

Ratchet would always reply, 'Of course… it keeps me calm so I don't kill you of all.'

No one, not even the tight aft, could disagree with that. Though they all knew that Ratchet didn't have these little overcharge parties for nothing… he wanted something and Ironhide thought it best to ask before all of them were too overcharge to think straight in order to say say 'No'… though no one said 'No' to the harpie easily.

"Soo…" Ironhide, who had noted that Ratchet was eyeing him and Prime for most of the evening with a quizzical expression. "What's on your mind, Hatchet?"

"Oh nothing much… Prime, I was just wondering how long have you been fragging Sunstreaker? It looks like more than one time as well?" added Ratchet far too bluntly.

Prime, who was taking a sip of Ratchet's famous brew, his facemask off in front of his most trusted soldier, spewed his drinks into the faces of the other soldiers at the table, Jazz and Prowl wincing as it splashed over their faces. Ironhide, who had been shocked at the question but out of range, took his time in laughing his aft off. He was already, partially intoxicated.

Wiping his pouty lips, optics going bright, the leader frowned at his medical chief and added, "I would never take advantage of one of my men… especially one as emotionally unstable as Sunstreaker is right now."

Eying the leader suspiciously for a moment, he surrendered and stated, "Apologies then Prime; it's just that I've been looking for someone of your _size_. Some idiot was too rough and I spent my afternoon making repairs on some rather delicate … equipment."

The mechs at the table cringed, Jazz's hand moving down to guard his own delicate equipment.

"Yeah, I'm a little pissed about it," growled the mech in frustration, his best lead dead; Prime seeming the likeliest candidate, taking pity in one of his soldiers though the damage seemed a bit rough for kind sparked Optimus.

"It's just that," continued the medic. "There aren't many mech's on the planet that size, Prime. So, once again I apologies."

Optimus coughed and rubbed behind his neck as he spoke in a slight embarrassment, "No problem, Ratchet. I'm so glad you know the staff so well that you note things like … sizes."

All the other mech's couldn't help but laugh at this, even Prime putting in a warm laugh. The conversation was so awkward with high grade in their veins, it was hard not to.

Only once the laughter had died did Ratchet turn to the weapon specialist and ask, "Was it you then, Ironhide? You're a little smaller than Prime but are large enough."

Everyone choked again, besides 'Hide who looked a bit flabbergasted before adding, "Well, I'm glad to know I'm one of the largest ones on base, Ratchet, and Sunny might have a nice aft but angry and bitter ain't my type."

Frowning at this, Ratchet sighed and mumbled, "Well, this was a bust. There's only a few more choices left then. There's Skyfire, which I doubt, and the Dinobots… which Sunny would probably be to vain to sleep with, besides… their seals haven't been broken."

The other mech's all shifted at this, everyone uncomfortable with how things have been going from bad to worse with Sunstreaker lately and Jazz couldn't help but ask, "So… is he fit for duty yet? After what happened with… Sideswipe?"

Ratchet was silent for a long time before adding, a serious air taking over table before he stated, "No… he's been broken a long time, and it's going to take time but he did agree to weekly consoling after some _persuasion_. So, for now, just help me keep an optic on him before I allow him to be put on normal duty again. He will be put on light duty though."

"Sure… we'll look after him until he opens up," stated Prime.

"In more than one way," snickered a tanked Ironhide, his spike twitch at the idea of a stretched valve and opened legs. Slag, he really needed to get laid… what was Ratchet putting in this stuff?

XXX

**Paw07: Ahhh… I had to murder the Ratchet scene … and the last scene. Just cut it out completely. Not going to bother editing that. Links! If you are eighteen or older of course:**

**cartoon . adultfanfiction story . php?no=600092940&chapter=8**

**paw07 . deviantart art / Sunny-Dispostion-ch8-307249027**


	9. Accepting and Rejecting

Chapter 9: Accepting and Rejecting

After that embarrassing repair session, Sunny was sent back to his room… to find the light on. A part of him, small and warm, thought for a moment that it was his brother, that this a day from yesterdays… a time in the past where his brother would look up from his perch on his berth as call him…

"Oh… Sunstreaker."

… Sunny. He was supposed to call him _Sunny_ because he hated it, absolutely detested it, but it always was alright if Side's did it. He just reminded his brother he hated that name so no one else would pick up the habit. Sadly, this wasn't Sideswipe and it was probably best; besides being angry, Sunstreaker was also far too ashamed to be with his brother… he could never combine sparks with his brother ever again unless he wanted to be court marshaled.

And quickly disowned by his only family.

"Hound… what are you doing here?" The twin asked, wondering if he could just grab some things and leave though… he was really tired.

The green mech put on a forced smile and added, "We… I needed a place to sleep so Prowl put me here."

Sunny was silent for a long time and then added, "Oh… "

For a moment the two of them stared at each other and then Hound rubbed the back of his head, smiling, "Well… its nice in here. Roomy."

Sunstreaker's vents struggled not to whimper in misery and slowly he nodded, stating, "Yeah, it's great… Just don't touch my things. The shower is rather cold so I recommend the public showers. I'm going to take one regardless and then go into recharge… if you stay up late, please use the lamp."

Not waiting for a reply, Sunny shut the door and turned on the freezing water. From that point, he did the only thing he could. He prayed that Primus would be kind of him and cover the sound of his weeping; regardless, when he came out what felt like hours later, Hound couldn't look him in the optic.

He had heard him… hadn't he?

And so that was how the week progressed, a silent stiffness around everyone besides Hound who only got 'good mornings' and 'turn on the lamp' and an occasional inquiry on what he was reading if only to kill the silence. He hadn't seen Sideswipe once during this time. Prowl's over thinking was finally useful as far and Sunny was concerned.

Yet, the world had suddenly seemed stagnant.

It seemed that Sideswipe's return had somehow stained his dream of Megatron, and Bluestreak was a constant reminder of that. Though the young mech never came forward to speak with him, it was almost as if Sideswipe himself had walked by with his cod piece open stating that Sunny couldn't have _this_ anymore. He wasn't good enough.

Not that he needed his brother… he had Megatron. Yes, it was a wrong. There wasn't a fiber in his being that didn't tell him it wasn't wrong. He knew he should be disgusted by the thought of the warlord's oral fluid mixing with his when they kissed, and the thought of his touch should burn like that of red irons.

Regardless of how wrong it was, Sunstreaker actually smiled at the thought as he read his data-pad, forgetting someone else was in the room until he heard a small chuckle come from the opposite side of the room and for a moment, in a haze, he thought it was Sunny only to push away the mist and reveal who was there.

Hound, again, like every night for the past week.

The mech was staring at him with a faint smile, slowly putting down the sand garden he had been playing with, a gift surprisingly from Prowl it seemed. The tactician was greatly interested in the idea of mediation, or so it was rumored. Though it did make sense, he was inhumanly calm sometimes.

"Didn't know you actually had a smile like that… you should smile more often. People might not be put off by your silent behavior then," stated Hound, his voice almost a norm at this point, and despite how much Sunstreaker wanted to resent that comment he just managed to glare.

This was a testing moment, Sunstreaker knew it. They had been in the same room for nearly a week and had not had any really bonding or destructive moments. Basically, Hound was wondering if Sunstreaker was going to bound across the room and rip him to shreds or chuckle at him.

Instead, Sunstreaker threw a beanbag-chair (pillow in a transformer's case) at the other in _almost_ a playful manner.

Hound wasn't _so_ bad. Perhaps loneliness was the only reason he was only able to act somewhat playfully before stating, "Whatever… I'm going to the car wash… be back later. Don't get sand on my pillow."

Optics onlined and offlining in shock, Hound frowned and then smiled," Alright, but I'm keeping the pillow until I see that smile again, and since you are going out… Bluestreak's been looking for you."

Sunstreaker almost stalled at the door in a type of revulsion, but forced himself forward and out of the door without another word despite the fact that his mind now wondering about, It was searching for the answers as to why Blue would ever want to talk to him again.

In fact, even when he got back from town, his mind was running circles around him.

Did Sideswipe want to apologize through his lover?

Did Bluestreak want to apologize for the whole situation?

Did they just want to yell at Sunny for being an aft?

Who knew? Sunny sure didn't, and he was just going to ignore the youth with as much determination as he did Sideswipe. As far as he was concerned, Bluestreak was now a part of Sideswipe's being and thus had to be hated and regarded as a pariah, a traitor to the spark.

Yet, Prowl had supported that ideal when it came to Sideswipe, placing rooms and shifts far from each other. He did not calculate such steps for Bluestreak though. So when they little, gray mech suddenly appeared in the corner of his vision, the Lamborghini resisted the urge to rise to his feet and punch the other's face in. He just settled for ignoring the other… despite how many optics were watching. As far as he was concerned, there was no mech standing next to his table asking in a meek voice, 'If he could sit here.'

It wasn't until the strain pulled itself throughout the whole rec. room that Ironhide, with a grunt, rose to leave for his shift, gripping Sunny's shoulder as he was leaving, hissing, "I believe the kid ask'd you a question."

Shrugging off the old mech's touch, Sunstreaker reluctantly looked up from his cube and in the most emotionless tone he could muster, stated, "Sit where you want, Bluestreak. I don't care."

He then went back to sipping his second cube, reading the data-pad he had gotten from Teletran1. It was battle tactics on Megatron. In truth, some would think it was so he could try taking on the brute again, but in actuality… the document had pictures.

After an awkward moment of silence, the rec. room slowly regaining its buzz like a marsh full of mosquitoes, and Bluestreak sat down placing two cubes with him… one most likely for his traitor brother. A silence hung before the youth finally whispered, "I know you don't want to talk to me."

"Really," said Sunny bitterly, not looking up from his reading. "I thought the blatant way I was ignoring you was fairly obvious. Now say what you wanted to say and get out of my face. As far as I'm concerned your presence is just as nauseating as my brothers… what happened in our room the other day was not forgiveness."

Blue swallowed, recalling the moans that had drifted out of the door and then the dry cry that had followed after. He also didn't want to remember the energon dripping down the other's leg, but Sideswipe had practically begged him… he had to do this.

Biting his lip component for a moment, Blue finally asked, "Sideswipe knows that… he's still going to try really hard, but this is about something else."

Sunstreaker was still looking at his data-pad before he finally bit out, "And what does that slagger want?"

He wanted to add slut or whore to that sentence, but refrained. He was angry. He was enraged that the other would have the audacity to sit at the same table as him, but as long as he had his pleasure… his Megatron to remind him of jubilation. He could refrain.

If only these were more than pictures, though he was sure that there would be all out panic if there was a real Megatron sitting with him as he consumed his energon, rubbing his lower back in a sensual manner. It was a nice thought though.

Bluestreak's optics looked hurt, but he sucked it up and finally stated, "Sideswipe wants to know if you need… if your spark is… stable?"

Sunny had forgotten about his data-pad and his optics gained a harsh glint, "I don't need him to frag me… OR ANYONE ELSE!" He added, raising his voice since he knew the rumor going around all too well. It seemed that the gossip had died down a little though since he hadn't 'raped' Hound in his recharge yet.

"If I need to be fragged, I have fingers," he hissed, watching the younger mech look away in embarrassment.

A moment of awkward silence followed after… the whole room was rather silent as well, before Sunny signed and asked softly, "You can tell him my spark is fine."

Bluestreak seemed to sag in relieve, a sad smile on his face, stating, "I'll tell him! He just really wants to make sure you are okay and … to talk to you."

"He betrayed my trust!" barked Sunny, his spark hammer painfully in his chest before he noticed he was being stared at by higher officers. He quickly dropped his head as he stated in a softer voice, "It will take much more than a little apology from either of you to regain my trust… and a lot of time."

Slowly nodding his head, Blue's optics got bright and he actually jump to his feet smiling in a way only Blue could, "But you will one day forgive him, right?"

_Only if he can forgive me_… though Sunny, before adding verbally, "He is my brother… but that day is not today. And don't you dare hug me! You could have told me as easily as Sideswipe about your relationship."

The gunner, who looked like he was about to jump over the table in his joy, stopped and nodded, his voice happy; the stress that had been in the room now seeming to deflate like everyone was holding their breath. None of the slaggers could keep to their own conversations it seemed. Regardless, Sunny didn't know why he offered the gunner hope as he reached for his cube, but he did love his brother and he was just too tired to fight about it right now. His spark just felt like it was deflating, stinging even.

Bluestreak always did have a nice smile thought… and when he was confused was even cuter.

"Umm… Sunstreaker," added the youth, seeming bemused now as he started rambling, "Not that I'm upset or anything, not wanting to ruin the mood, Plus, it's right across the room, But perhaps if you may. I was just…"

Well, at least this was normal. Blue never did know when to shut up.

"Just out with it," added the yellow brother as he took a sip.

"Well," finally came the gray mech, "it's just that you already drank two cubes of your own rations and are about to start on Sideswipe and mine. Sides has limited rations as part of his punishment."

The yellow twin froze, optics going bright as he noticed two empty cubes in front of him yet he was starting on a third one? He quickly checked his systems. They were all full, content, not even a shortage of energy. So why were his systems bidding him to fill his reserves? It wasn't like he was planning on rocketing through space in nothing but an armored protoform or going to go days without drinking… so why?

Putting the cube down he hummed and stated out loud for Bluestreak more than himself, "Sorry, for some reason my system is trying to fill all my reserves. I must be getting a virus and my system knows it."

Bluestreak frowned, adding, "Well, better do a quick scan while you are in recharge, because it can be really bad to be sick. Like when Spike was sick and then Sparkplug and then Carly. So…"

He put a hand up, grumbling, "I get it… get rid of it before someone else gets it and Ratchet hands me my aft. Now… leave me alone. My patience is wearing thin."

Yet, despite his cold attitude, Blue left the room with a skip in his step. He saw a little hope at the end of the tunnel. The gunner might have even stopped to give Hound, who was heading in the opposite direction, a hug if the mech didn't look dead on his feet. Must have been what Sunny was catching.

…

Ratchet wandered down the hall away from his medbay, thinking.

He had finally asked the shuttle if he had been having relations with Sunstreaker. The scientist had sputtered, blushed and whimpered, _'No… um, I haven't been with anyone in a … long time. Though Sunsteaker is very good looking if that's what you were inquiring to.'_

Now that was just frustrating. Had one of the mechs had an enlargement and not informed him of it? He wouldn't put it past Cliffjumper. That mech always liked things bigger, but who else would have the audacity to do that on their own?

Regardless, he was the only one with the skills to successfully do that and he wouldn't waste parts on something so useless. Not that he didn't like a good fragging as much as the next mech, and he did know how to appreciate a large spike, but it was just impractical in war-time. That metal could be used for far more needed equipment.

Things were just not adding up… something had to be wrong. And the one weekly visits he had had with Sunny had revealed nothing except that Sunny was most likely sexually repressed and liked parodies. No real surprise in either one of those, given Sideswipe's prank wars that he would sometimes rope Sunny into.

He still had to figure this out… what caused…

"Afternoon, Ratchet."

Hearing another mech's words echoing in his thoughts, he looked up to see a very lethargic looking Hound wandering up to him, practically asleep on his feet. He placed out a hand and stalled the other immediately, asking, "Hound… you look exhausted. Have you not been recharging well?"

The green mech sighed and then shrugged before stating, "Not really, especially last night."

Ratchet went stiff. He knew they were just rumors about Sunny jumping someone, but he added, "It's not… Sunstreaker is it? He hasn't been inappropriate or anything, has he?"

Hound perked up, catching the undertones and suddenly feeling embarrass having heard a thousand dirty jokes just like that one this week. He quickly shook his head and stated, "N-no… at least not that way. Well… the stretcher thing is inappropriate he's been trying to hide from me, but nothing towards me personally."

Frowning, he inquired, "Be a little more specific, will you?"

"Well," rubbing the back of his head, he stated feeling a bit guilty in ratting his roommate out, "He's been talking in his recharge, moaning really. About Sides, and Blue and strangely old Megs… the slagger must have hit him really hard the other day if he still dreams about being in pain."

Ratchet frowned, asking, "Well, let me give you a nice code sequence that will block out nightly noises like that… but do tell me more."

…

It had been a hard day, the sun setting outside.

Not physically, but emotionally. His very spark hurt. Perhaps that was why he had been so tired recently. So it really irritated him that he woke up nearly a human hour or two before he even needed to get up. He quickly grumbled and beadily looked over at his roommate. Hound's back was turned to him and was still pleasantly recharging.

What had woke him up then?

He turned his attention to the door at that moment and waited for the door to be knocked on. When that didn't happen his face scrunched up, wondering what the pit had stirred him from his black oasis of silence when there was a soft blink on his Hub.

His optics went wide and before he could stop himself, he turned his head over the side of his berth and releasing the contents of his tank. He didn't even care that he woke Hound from his recharge as he released his contents again and again until there was nothing left, the tubing in his throat constricting and making him choke each time it failed to pull nonexistent fuel from his now empty tank.

He didn't care if Hound was now sitting up, optics bright in surprise and worry, asking him what was wrong.

He just kept trying to get the filth out of him. He had to get it out. It didn't matter that his whole form was shaking from the effort. He just couldn't… stomach it. His HUB had to lying to him. The message was too impossible, too dire. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. All he could do was lean over his berth in the half-dark. He wanted to cry out to his brother's spark and have him come and tell him his HUB was lying to him, that it was a bad dream. He had just woken up. It had to be a dream. It had to be. There's no way. The last person he … it was just … it had to be … he must have been imagining … it was impossible … it was lying too –

Suddenly there was a soft hand on his shoulder and Sunny jump, choking a whimper back as he sat up and looked Hound in the optic, the other's words finally reaching him in his moment of incomprehensible horror.

This wasn't a dream.

"Sunstreaker… you okay? Was it some bad energon or do I have to call Ratchet to come look at you? For a moment I thought you were really in a bad way, shaking like that," stated Hound, looking the other over with a medical optic. He was no medic, true, but he could do basics for a field patch.

Sunny just stared at the other, his optics so bright it was almost blinding to look right at them in the dark.

It wasn't until the silence dragged on for a minute or two, that Sunny was barely able to whisper, "M-must have been. L-let me clean it up."

His voice was a daze, his hands shaking and Hound was quick to put out a palm and stop the other, stating, "No, just lie back down. I'll clean it up and give you a little energon from my private stock. If you don't seem better in the mornin', we go to Ratchet. Okay? Don't want to wake old Hatchet at such an hour."

Sunny nodded his head, still in a daze as Hound offered him a half cube of light-grade energon. The green mech even helped him raise it to his lips, almost forcing him to drink. Yet, Sunny muttered a thanks, not even noting the other kept throwing worried glances as he laid back down. His entire system was in shock, his optics still on bright, anything but sleep was coming to him tonight.

It had to be wrong.

It HAD to be. If it was true: it was not okay, he should be pulling out tubing in his abdomen right now, trying to rid himself of _it_, but he was too stunned to do much more then lay there and listen to his roommate clean up his mess.

He had to think this through.

There was no way he was Heavy with a sparklet. There was no way his shark had been nursing a little orb right next to his for over a months now, having finally stabilized it and now willing to drop it into his birthing chamber so the sparklet could start its protoform. The systems just needed to gain acceptance in order to drop the partially developed spark. The command was actually blinking softly on his HUB at this very moment. B-but it was illogical. Twins were only half a spark… and he was male. There hadn't been a male Carrying since the golden age… there were just too many variables.

Yet… here he was, HUB blinking that the chamber was full of nanites, reserves full, and the spark was stabilized… it was time to accepted the sparkling's drop so it could start to grow and expand inside him.

Like a squirming, worming little parasite.

He nearly upchucked again at the horror of such a realization, images of something squirming in his systems making him throwing his hand over his mouth to stop him from losing the energon Hound had just given him. The green mech would be pulling him to Ratchet's in an instant… and there was no way to hide this once Ratchet plugged into his HUB for an examination.

He had to hide this… get rid of this… Megatron had to be kept a secret. This parasite was a mistake.

He…

He…

He would just have to reject it, ignore the request for the sparkling's drop into his chamber. Soon or later the little spark would just die without the ability to drop and it would be as if it had never happened. Too bad with the request though… there was nothing but a 'Yes' option. He'd just have to keep putting it off.

Sooner or later it might die. Right?

XXX

**Paw07: Not much censored in this chapter. Regarless, links!**

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	10. Denial

Chapter 10: Denial

Megatron sat on his throne with his chin perched on his fist. He stared out the command window at the fish and other tentacle beasts that roamed the waters and clogged one's intakes when they went outside. Yet, he could care less about that. His mind was … elsewhere.

For the past day or so his mind was ravenous, hungry for a gleam of gold, yellow sunshine. The dark ocean was smothering him… he'd been twitchy all day and Soundwave seemed to notice. Said mech was actually standing at the side of his throne, silent as ever… waiting for an inquiry but never making a sound.

"I want him…" Megatron finally said.

There was a moment of silence before Soundwave replied, "Inquiry: the Autobot, designation: Sunstreaker?"

His finger's tapped on his throne impatiently for a moment before he stated, "Yes, he's all I've been able to think of today. I want him… badly."

Soundwave still before replying in his usual drawl, "Inquiry: capture or contact?"

His spark thumped at the idea of kidnapping the front-liner and then ravishing him in his berth again and again, but no. He wanted the yellow mech completely, emotionally. He could not do so with Sunny being stolen from his kin.

At least not now. If he could put the right spin on it… he could steal the Lamborghini and still make himself seem the hero.

Yes… but the time wasn't right now. He wasn't as great a strategist as the famed Prowl, but this war hadn't dragged out as long as it had because he had no form of planning. He could be patient when he really wanted something… but he'd still twitch with his longing.

"Contact him… for now. See if we can have a meeting sometimes soon. Now let me be, lock the door," he stated, waving the Communications Officer off with the hiss of a shutting and locking door.

The room was silent, not another soul in the room before he sighed in resignation, arousal behind his cod piece.

Sunstreaker was really the only thing he could think of all morning, his spark casting dreams of lust all night and he had yet to satisfy himself with said thoughts of his lovely little Autobot. Lazily leaning against his thrown, he reached for his cod piece and popped it open … no need to let such thoughts go to waste.

…

"_Get out of my sight_," barked Megatron as he all but threw his SiC out of the control deck a few minutes later, having been interrupted during his _private_ time.

Thruster-heals wasting no time getting out, not even sparing a glance at the tall and proud gun-former, he departed, rage rippling down his form.

It wasn't until they were a hall or two down, that the blue seeker suddenly spoke up as if scolding , "Did you really have to push him like that Starscream? What if he had done something with that… girth."

Skywarp snorted.

"Yes, I had to," he smiled, caring little that it made his face sting, "because I had to get under his plating."

Thundercracker, the only true reasoning in the group, opened his mouth to speak again only to have Starscream purr, "And because I doubt he's leaking for just anyone."

"… except for the Prime," interjected Skywarp, chuckling at an old joke that ran around the base.

Ignoring the idiot on his team, Starscream continued, "And I think our dear Megatron has found something more than just his complacent berth partner. Dare I say, he might even love this one? Just not anyone makes Megatron moan like a whore."

"… a fraggen tasty looking whore," added Skywarp who was ignored again, Thundercracker butting in.

"The Slag Maker in love?"

"Or lust," added Starscream nonchalantly. "Generally, I don't care about matters of the spark, but I will crush Megatron… in one way or the other. I will see him suffer for disgracing me so many times."

…

Recharge… had escaped him, yet Sunstreaker had remained so still the whole night one might have thought him deactivated.

He had spent all night feeling sick to his spark, his mind running around the idea of how he was going to get rid of this … mistake. He didn't even want to think of what would happen if denying the sparkling didn't offline it. He was sure there were other ways… more painful way… he could always take a well-aimed shot to the abdomen. Which, being his luck, Megatron had probably put a price on Sunstreaker's head like he had for Ratchet many vorns ago.

It was a 'no kill' proclamation… usually for live execution or tactical information (Did Prowl have one as well?).

He hadn't heard anything from Autobot intelligence yet though… so that seemed unlikely. Regardless, Primus would probably 'protect' his investment of a Carrying mech and every fraggen shot would always stray away from his body like an unwanted case of good luck.

Well, he could always just be forward about it. He could just walk up to the warlord in a fray and ask in all seriousness, 'Hit me in the abdomen… right here, as hard as you can, now.'

Though… from that point forward it would probably have Megatron standing stupidly, asking, 'What?'

'I said fraggen hit me, slag eater!'

… 'Why?'

So, it was easy to state that accidentally getting shot seemed unlikely and Megatron hitting him personally even seemed more unlikely. He could always just jump on Screamer's back and take a fall though that was maybe a little to death defying. He might actually end up dead instead of miscarrying.

… Or saved, and Ratchet discovering the sparklet on board.

No, if he could bear this pain (his spark starting to jolt with every time he pressed the 'dismiss' for the acceptance) he wouldn't have to find another way. Yet… human's aborted safely… perhaps he could take some notes from them, but that was a conversation he did not want to have with Carly or Spike… it would start another Pro-choice/Pro-life campaign. He personally didn't get it. Perhaps both sides should focus on ignoring unwanted pregnancies in the first place instead of fighting over who was right.

Tuh… now he sounded like a hypocrite, but really… he had never met a mech that was Heavy. He'd heard a few tales and that was why they had birthing cambers, but for him of all mechs… it was too surreal.

And those were the type of thoughts that plagued him until the lamp suddenly popped on, Hound trying to leave the room as silently as possible. Sunny just remained still, dulling his optics. He hoped that Hound wouldn't go to Ratchet but there seemed no real reason for the tracker to do such a thing… he had kept the energon down, barely.

But… Sunny really wasn't in the mood to go out on patrol. Well, maybe he could take a tumble, scare himself silly and cause his spark to be erratic and loose the sparking.

But, would it hurt?

Would it hurt to abort the little thing? He was an Autobot so he did value life, though he did want to end some peoples, but he also didn't believe in stealing freedom from another being… himself.

Hand slowly being placed on his chassis, Sunstreaker made a vow that if the sire had been anyone else he might have been able to keep it, spare it.

Pit, part of him wondered if he could just desert for a few months and bare it in some neutral colony, but he wasn't so naïve. Carrie sparklings were rare as it was with so few femmes… a male Carrier would not be something that would be an easily kept secret. Finding a medic that knew how to properly deal with it would be even harder.

No, it had to go. Besides, if it were to be born it would be nothing but a pariah… a freak. Would he or she have blue optics and be a gun-former or have wings? He had no idea if Megatron had the coding for wings, true, but flight was mostly a Deception thing. And what about his Autobot coding? Even though in functionality their peoples were practically the same, yet his ideals would be partially inherited as well. How could they expect a sparking to chose between Autobot and Decepticon ideals? Could it? Or would the sparkling's personality splinter and he'd end up with three spinning faces with three differing opinions? Would the sparklet be so unstable that his systems would be diseased with constant glitches?

He had never heard of a Con and Autobot breeding. Building a frame together and getting a spark was something completely different… a Carried mech or femme's spark and systems were based entirely off their creators' own codes.

Frag, would it even survive the birthing? Would it have half a face? Or would it be missing arm or have the inability to take an alt form since it was a mess of limbs and gun-parts?

Curling into a tight ball in horror, decision made for both him and the poorly sired sparkling, Sunstreaker wept. He could never recall crying so hard, his systems slowly falling into stasis to block out the world of the living with nothing but dreams of crystal-like sand and a chuckling Megatron with a smaller mech at his heals; the youngling smiling up at the warm sun.

It had been tepid in his dreams, warm and placid, which was why the world hurt so much when he was pulled from that dream, his spark thrashing in his casing when he was cruelly waken up by a ping of demand from a commanding officer.

Sunsteaker slowly sat on his berth, watching his hand's shake as he check the time. He had recharged half the day away, past his first shift and it was still there. A melancholy of such a false world dripping into nothingness, Sunny watched the message for acceptance blinking almost non-stop now, barely even being affected by the delay he kept placing on it. His HUD had also moved it up in level of important as well, next to his spark activity and his energon levels. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say even if he could ask for help.

Who would he ask anyway? Megatron? That was laughable. The slagger liked him for a good frag, a comfort or merely physical and embrace and pretty words, but … was there anything else there? And of the Autobots? His brother was out of the question, the betrayal still too raw, and Ratchet would kill him and then want to know who the daddy was. Best case scenario with that would be him being sent back to Cybertron like some kind of exile, the question and investigation of the daddy imminent.

There was no hope to be asked for. All he could do was sit there on his berth in the dark. He wanted to cry out to his brother's spark and have him come and tell him his HUD was lying to him, that it was a bad dream. He had just woken up. He had to be a dream. It had to be.

Suddenly there was a pounding on his door and the mech jump, choking a whimper back as he looked at the door. Had Sideswipe felt his spark's panicking all through the night? Would he tell him that it was –

"Sunstreaker, report," said a voice from behind the door. "You are late for guard duty."

A soft whine escaped the yellow mech as he wrapped his arm over his chassis. He didn't want to go out right now. He wanted to hide. If he went out there, the world would see and – and they would –

"Sunstreaker. open up or I will open the door. If you are still feeling ill, as Hound kindly informed me when you didn't show up for your first shift, you should go to Ratchet for a proper diagnosis and not scuff on your duties."

It was a wonder, perhaps, why Sunny rose to his feet, but he didn't question it as he opened the door and glared at the tactician before him.

Prowl's wings twitched as he stared at the figure before him. He looked Sunstreaker up and down; probably noting how Sunny wasn't meeting is optics.

"Was it bad energon or is your system trying to purge a virus?" he asked calmly, thinking the other did look rather tired and slightly shaken up as if he had just been pulled out of a restless recharge.

Sunny shivered at the thought. It was almost truthful as he stated, "I'm trying to purge a pest, sir. My systems are aware of it. It shouldn't cause me much more trouble."

Prowl's form softened slightly, less stern. It almost caused front-liner to jump back in surprise when Prowl placed a hand over one of the vents on Sunny's shoulder, spreading his fingers. The higher officer gave him the glare of 'don't move' and despite how awkward it was for Sunstreaker, the Second in Command, pulled his hand away, nodding, "Well, you are running a little bit hot, nothing dangerous. Has your systems tried to force any of today's rations out of your tank?"

Maybe if I had actually consumed today's rations, thought Sunstreaker before shaking his head. No.

Prowl's face was still stern as he asked in a clipped tone, "Have you had any of today's rations?"

Sunny flinched, wanting to get in the other's face but knowing that a forced trip to Ratchet would be his punishment, he gave a half-truth, "I've had some low grade."

Prowl nodded, stating in almost a tired tone, "Well, will you be able to perform today for regular duty or will I have to place you back on light duty and send you to Ratchet's care?"

Trying not to flinch as he denied the request again on his HUD, his spark thrashing painfully for a moment, Sunny nodded his head, wanting to be anywhere but near the medic who would see a flinch for what it was, Sunny growled feeling threatened, "I can perform, Prowl. Stop treating me like a prissy little virgin."

Prowl stiffened but did not outright punish the mech for his sour mood, knowing far too well how a virus would treat a soldier, "No need to be vulgar, Sunstreaker. I could punish you for talking to a superior officer in such a tone, but I know yours systems are probably aching."

Sunny twitched at the rare kindness from the Second in Command, but clipped his sharp tongue down with his teeth regardless.

"So, go get a cube of energon and report to the main entrance for duty with Hound. Trailbreaker kindly covered your earlier shift so you shall now be taking his. Do you mind working with Hound?" asked Prowl, a question within a question.

In truth, Prowl probably wanted to know if the two of them were compatible roommates.

Looking up with dull, tired optics, Sunny stated, "He's fine."

Nodding in agreement, his wings dropping in what must have been relief for Prowl, the officer stated, "That is good to know. Now… is there anything else?"

Blinking his optics, finally realizing how hard Prowl was trying to be comforting, Sunstreaker asked, "What do you mean by that?"

There was a moment of stillness, sand settling to the floor, Prowl frowning lightly before his optics became soft and he replied, "You seem… troubled."

Feeling as if his spark had just been exposed, Sunny stood up straight, hiding the physical and emotional pain in his spark, replying, "I just got very little recharge last night… I'm fine."

… _If only one could will wishes into being._

XXX

**Paw07: Lost a Megatron and pervy Skywarp scene. Regardless, links!**

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	11. Messages

Chapter 11: Messages

Sideswipe stalled, barely even noticing that Red Alert's cameras were following him down the hall like a buzzard. Slowly, not even noting Jazz stalling next to him, he rubbed his chassis. It had been hurting like this all day… through the bond. It wasn't painful or frightening, he just couldn't identify it. It was as if Sunny needed something and his part of the bond was scolding him by aching as much as it could… and the more the day went on the more it hurt.

Yet, after giving Jazz the puppy-dog pout, the saboteur confirmed that Sunny was fine on patrol with Hound. He didn't give an exact location, of course, but it was enough for him not to panic over the soft ache. Whatever it was, Sunny had boarded up the bond tighter than usual, faultering at strange moments only to slam the bond shut so tightly it hurt.

Was his brother trying to hide something?

A lover perhaps? Had Sunstreaker found a good mech stabilize his spark? He didn't know if he wanted to weep or smile at the thought. Maybe… he had just been rough the first time.

Regardless, Sunstreaker was hiding something and Sideswipe wanted to know who or what it was… though how he was going to do it without talking to his twin was going to be somewhat challenging. Looking to his side, Sides had his answer almost immediately. Jazz was a gossip after all and conveniently right next to him. Who said he had to talk to his brother at all to figure out what was going on?

"Hey, Jazz," stated Sideswipe. "Tell me… you notice anything strange about my brother? I can't ask him myself after all… and a brother worries."

…

It has been somewhat _unsettling_, to state it lightly, to have his spark suddenly speed up and seize. For a moment Sunstreaker thought he was about to offline and fall gray onto the ground. In actuality, he just swerved and veered into a nearby field where he remained shaking for a few moments.

Sitting in the tall grass, engine idling, the Autobot was sure that his spark was about to extinguish itself in a flurry as he rejected the sparklet once more.

It had been even more frightening when he heard a chuckle at his expense. Though it was probably over the crash more than his dire situation. It has been a poorly executed crash… the human corn in his grill wasn't helping. Quickly transforming, Sunstreaker's optics burned with the fury of the pit. He cared little that his body was still recovering from the shock of having his spark jerk so harshly… he was going to kill Hound.

The green mech he had been on patrol with had been highly bearably as of late, he didn't even question why Sunstreaker was unaccustomedly slow. It wasn't the first time they had rounds together and it was a well known fact that Sunstreaker always left mech's in the dust with his high powered engine, but his spark with its sharp jabs made driving somewhat difficult… high speeding driving might be deadly.

Regardless, even knocked up as humans would state, he wasn't a mech to just stand there and take mocking. No, he might have been technically Heavy, but he wasn't going to be taking anyone's mouth.

Turning in the direction of the mocker and stalled, engine whining. There was no one there, no Hound in sight. The mech was probably up the road, not even noticing he was in the ditch.

Raising a brown in confusion, the frontliner half wondered if he was going mad from all the stress, but that did not seem to be the case because there was another chuckle. Sunstreaker immediately turned his gaze to the corn field, images of horror movie night with Spike coming into mind. Was this going to turning into Children of the Corn or what?

"Whose there?" he finally whispered, trying to keep his voice even.

There was a ping and the mech jumped, drawing his gun from his subspace as he looked around wildly until he heard the ping again. He didn't recognize it as Hound's comm. but most likely, the green mech was still wondering where he had gotten off to. Idiot.

Answering the comm, Sunstreaker replied, "Hound… sorry, a deer jumped…"

"I saw no deer neither do I smell one nearby," came a mental reply, no voice, only text accompanying over the comm.

Sunstreaker immediately went stiff, pressing the button on his hem almost harshly as he looked around angrily, "Who is this?"

"Just the messenger… now put away the gun or you'll be getting nothing from me," replied the other, purring almost.

Thinking it was strange that the person had purred instead of speaking, a thought hit him, his optics going wide as something occurred to him. Who would be sending him a message that could purr and smell that well? He immediacy looked up and stared in shock. Up in the tree, lazily perched was none other than Ravage. She was grinning rather wickedly like that strange like that cat in that Alice movie.

He was half tempted to shoot her but she quickly reminded him, "Don't shoot the messenger."

Slowly, taking heed, Sunstreaker lowered the gun, all of his instincts roaring at him, but them again Ravage had seen him being well … _ravaged_… on the battlefield the other day by Megatron so it was unlikely she would attack him or have any intention of doing such.

She didn't want to break her Master's toys, did she?

"What do you want?"

She chuckled, metal teeth glinting, "To erase the image of you fragging Megatron from my data memories… but that's not going to happen. So, I'm here with a message."

His spark skipped, for a moment hope and horror clashing together like an iceberg having met a lava flow. Half of him wondered if Megatron had found out about the sparklet and was going to offer to have it painlessly extinguished so no one would have to know or was about to demand he come to the base and act like a good little Carrier.

Yet, Ravage's chuckling banished such thoughts as she pinged, "You seem torn between horror and bliss. I've heard of difficult relationships but you take the oil-cake…"

Sunny nodded, stepping into the shade of the tree and looking up at her, stating, "Like you said… its complicated."

She twitched her stubby tail, adding, "Don't I know it… regardless, my lord wishes to see you."

"You mean frag me?" he asked, his valve clenching at the thought and his hand unknowingly rising to his chassis above his spark.

Ravage was silent for a moment as he observed the bot below her. He was strange. He didn't seem displayed by the message and the Autobot even _smelled_ strange. She knew this smell… she had smelled it only a few times. Soundwave had had that smell once or twice, but she could not recall…

"I take your silence as a 'yes'," stated the young mech, his hand moving away from his chassis as he added, "And I'd very much … like to see him again… but right now I have something to deal with. Give me a few solar days. Is there a comm. link or something for I can get in contact with and … not arise suspicion?"

The cat-former almost smiled, and then there was a ping. Was this a human frequency?

Smiling slightly, a small warmth now in his chest at the prospect of Megatron's attention in more than a physical manner, Sunstreaker gave the cassette a coy grin as he murmured, "Tell your Master he will be getting a naughty call. I've heard of this thing the human do. It's call phone sex… he is going to be my first text subject."

Loving the horrified expression that came over the cat-formers face, the cassette nodded and then jumped off into the grass, leaving the sunny Autobot almost pleasantly happy until there was another jolt in his chest and a few moments later worried Hound by his side as Sunstreaker crawled out of the ditch.

"You okay, Sunstreaker? I noticed you weren't behind me a few minutes ago. Sorry I didn't notice sooner that you decided to go off roadin'," said the worried mech as he offered a helping hand out of the ditch, surprise on his face when Sunny took it, rubbing his chassis. "Should I call Ratchet? Did you hurt your undercarriage in the brush?"

Sick at the prospect of Ratchet's hands, the sunny colored character shook his head and added quickly, "No, no. Just a little … dented. A _cat_ jumped out on the road and I went into the ditch."

His spark jerked again and he almost doubled over, Hound quick to grab and steady him. Sunstreaker was quickier to pull away though, knowing that worried gaze in the jeep's optics as Sunny shook his hand dismissively, thinking up a lie that would keep Ratchet away, "Mm-my tank… is still hurting something terrible. I'm tired of being mother hened by the old harpie though, Hound. Let's just get this over with so I can go back into reacharge and get rid of this parasite."

Hound nodded, "So it was a bug then. What kind of bug is it?"

"The kind my system is aware of," the frontliner growled as he struggled onto the road, feeling like collapsing as a rather strong wave hit him.

Frag, it was getting faster.

"B-but it shouldn't take my systems long to purge it. Let's just get this over with," he added, transforming, not knowing just how unbearably painful the rest of the route would be since it was a few hundred miles long and all.

Meanwhile, in the grasses of the crash site, a metal cat walked forward, smoothly, turning on her comm. link, "Soundwave, are you there?"

"Affirmative: mission successful?"

"Yeah… he got the number," replied the small Con, still feeling something was wrong as she added, "And he seemed happy, too happy to have it, and then there was this smell."

"Smell: more information required," added the elder mech over the line.

The cat-former sighed, knowing she should have kept it to herself. She knew the smell, knew it so well, but for some reason she couldn't recall what it was. She knew Soundwave would expect her to, but she didn't recall as many insignificant details like Soundwave did… especially during the beginning of the war.

Yes, that was the last time she had smelled it.

So it wasn't for earth.

Not a lot to go on.

Twitching the stub of her tail, she replied, "Sorry, I don't know, but I know I should. It is familiar, but I haven't smelled it in a long time, around the beginning of the war perhaps?"

There was silence on the other end until the monotone voice, though it was more the mask then his voice that was actually monotones though few knew that, replied, "Dwell on scent. Inquiry: emotion of happiness, false or true? Could the Autobot have been acting, creating a trap for Megatron?"

Ears going flat against the cassette's head, she replied, "He seemed troubled but cheered up after hearing Megatron wanted him… something about phone sex, whatever that is. I am uncertain."

"Mission: follow Autobot Sunstreaker. See if he is type of spy and … if you know that scent," added the mech before the line went dead.

Groaning, knowing she would have to run to get there before the Autobot, the cassette started off, wondering how long it would take to find a way into the Autobot base this time. Last time, Blaster and his cassettes had become really paranoid and blocked off anything entrances they could, but that wouldn't stop Ravage.

She hadn't survived this long war because she was stupid.

A little forgetful of peaceful days, perhaps, but anything but stupid.

…

Sunstreaker tried not to scream as he transformed at the Ark's entrance, their route over. He had thought it would never end… the mission nor the pain in his chest. True, the mission was over now, but the pain… it wasn't over.

It was worse, his spark actually burned and once in a while it would seize painfully.

If he hadn't turned off his vocals, his screams would have echoed all the way to the base.

Luckily, Hound had been ahead and hadn't noticed Sunstreaker's drifting during such episodes nor how he had pulled to the side once to empty the contents of his tank. It was taking all the self-control he owned to be walking straight instead of keening over in pain with and hand on his chassis.

His system had almost forced the acceptance twice already and he had to get to his room to have another painful battle before he passed out.

Nodding to Cliffjumper who was stuck with sentry duty, the yellow mech took one step forward into the base … and almost collapsed there at the entrance way on his knees. The pain had just growing tenfold, no longer coming like contractions, but now constant. If felt like his spark was starting to split and it was as wonder how he had been able to hide the pain from his brother's side of the spark this long. Perhaps it was because his brother was now to busy thrusting his spark into that gray, slutty Dustan. A small growl escaped Sunstreaker at the thought in exchange of a whimper or scream. He was in pain, but his loathing was stronger. His hate of the gunner and his abandoning brother could probably drag him to his room before he collapsed into a heap of agony on the floor.

Pit, he wouldn't even be in this mess if his brother hadn't abandoned him… again.

"Sunstreaker. Wait up."

Or he might collapse here.

A frown hung heavily on Hound's face as he stepped into Sunstreaker's path, after having given Cliffjumper their report. True, Hound knew it was unwise to step into the frontliner's trail, but something was seriously wrong with the yellow twin and as the mech's new roommate, the tracker felt responsible. Whatever was going on, it was not just a tank ache. Despite the crash, Sunstreaker also hadn't been silent in his usual ' hate the world way' but more like he was afraid to open his mouth. It was as if he had been holding back screams towards the end of their route. Painful screams by the way his fingers were now twitching and the way his lips tugged painfully at his face.

Hound was also not blind to the fact that Sunstreaker had pulled over and transformed once to empty his tank as well. True, the green mech understood a sick mech had no want for speed, so he didn't question Sunstreaker's pace but now his sensors, his gut as Spike referred to it once, was telling him something wrong. And even if this was a tank ache, it was something really nasty and Hound didn't want to come back from his game time with Mirage and Trailbreaker to find Sunstreaker offline in their room.

Not that the twin seemed thankful for his concern.

"What?" said Sunstreaker more in a croak than in a real threat.

"I-I, well, yah didn't seem well today, even before the crash. Are you sure feeling alrigh'? Yah need someone to talk to, i-if that's what's wrong, or help to the medical bay? You'rh not looking much better from last night and I don't think recharging with fix it," continued Hound, his worry only growing as he watched the mech's optics twitch in setting; never a good sign.

Sunstreaker tried to keep his surprise buried. He had thought he had hidden the pain well enough … but it wasn't the first time he was wrong. He had been wrong about his brother after all. A sadness of an abandoned bond now welling up with the sparkling pain already radiating thought his spark like a rapidly spreading fungus.

Knowing he didn't trust his vocals or his legs right now, Sunstreaker decided to do the next best thing, retreat. Pushing passed Hound, only one destination in mind, he waved a hand at Hound as if saying, 'Don't worry' as he kept his legs straight. He only wanted one thing right now, a cold dark corner in his room so he could suffer through this until it would pass, until he would become numb. That's what spark pain did. It would sting so badly one would wish they could die and then it would slowly turn into a dull ache, like Sideswipe. This would pass and be nothing more than a dull pain to haunt him.

At least he hoped it would pass. The warnings had been growing ever more frequent on his HUD. So much so that they were starting to litter his system, demanding acceptance, trying to force it. He wouldn't allow it though. The sparkling w-was wrong. There was no way he could keep it.

Shutting the door to his room and locking it, he allowed himself to fall to his knees as he squeezed his middle, whispering, "Please die little one. Please just die."

…

Ravage was nearly soundless as she made her way through the venting systems. It sometimes amazed her how it was so easy to get into them. Yes, the Autobot cassettes had block off the ones they could find… but this was a side of a mountain. There were so many ways in.

She didn't know if this Autobot sex toy was a good or bad thing. True, Megatron, though highly sexually tense lately, was less volatile to his own soldiers and far more level headed when it came to planning and preparing for the future. He had actually started to think of an end to this war. She heard that Megatron had been contacting Shockwave asking for planets with materials needed to revive their home. It was still young in it's thought processes, but she was sure it had to do with the little sun colored bot. Then again, if this relationship was a rouse and the Autobot was playing him merely to entrap the warlord… well, the few weeks that would follow would be pit on earth.

But, whatever the consequence, all Soundwave knew was what had happened in the battlefield days ago with the yellow Autobot was not meant to be a onetime thing.

Not that their lord didn't deserve a sexy little thing, but if Sunstreaker was folly in any of his expressions of love… though she doubt it real love… she would end the Autobot in his recharge tonight. Megatron would never know how he died.

Slowly, she stalked through the vents until finally she found herself looking down the shaft. It had smelled like the yellow mech, without the pungent musk that she had smelled earlier today, but it was not Sunstreaker. It was a red mech. The twin if she recalled correctly, and he was currently riding a pretty little thing.

"S-sideswipe! Please!" cried a little grey Dutsen and it clung to his lover on the berth.

The cat just shook her head. This is what the down time on earth had reduced every mech to… deprived sex fiends. She had noticed it in the Nemesis as well, pairs were popping up. Not that she blamed anyone. The death toll on earth had been severely limited compared to that of Cybertron. It gave mech's time to be bored and bored led to hobbies… of all kinds.

Stalling, the cassette grinned to herself. There was that smell, that heavy musk that smelled like electricity and nanites, but not in the way interfacing did. It was old and _stale_ wasn't the word, it was old and new at the same time.

It would irritate her to no end if she couldn't figure out what that smell reminded her of.

Following her nose, she soon found herself looking downward into a large room, a berth on each side, a single lamp lit and a … shaking mech in the corner. She sat down on her hunches and watched in confusion. Well, at least he wasn't reporting his false relationship to Optimus Prime or that sour mech, Prowl, but why was he just huddled in a corner… shaking. No, he was thrashing, shivering, arching. This mech was in pain, serious internal pain.

He didn't smell exactly like death though.

Why hadn't he gone to a medic yet?

The mech arch painfully, his mouth opened in what would have probably been a scream, but since whimpers weren't even escaping the yellow mech, his vocals were probably off.

Slowly sinking down against the wall, vents panting, the yellow mech dimmed his optics and panted, vocals coming on strained as if he had been screaming, "Please primus… just die little one. I don't want you. I … cant … uhhh!"

The mech arched again, this time a gurgled scream escaping him, fluids spurting from his mouth before he collapsed again, whining in his throat as he placed a hand against his chassis almost denting it as he pressed firmly.

The cat-former blinked in surprise, realization hitting her like a freight train as to what the smell was.

Little one … holding his chassis… smell of old nanites.

The slagger was _heavy_ and recently from the looks of it, the sparkling trying to drop down into the carrying chamber to start the building of its spark casing and body. And from the looks of it, Sunstreaker had no plans of being a parent.

Not that she blamed him… this was a war they were in despite the lax battles of late.

Deciding that she didn't want her Master's pet to offline so pathetically, she brought out a claw and started opening the vent.

Sunny nearly bulked a moment later when something thumped on his berth. For a sickening moment, he even thought it was his brother now sitting down on his berth, about to ask him if he needed to be carried to the med bay like a sick little bot. Yet, as Sunny sat up to protest he was fine, vertigo took over his systems, his optics going white as his battle systems tried to turn on to give him extra strength.

Unfortunately, the pain and vertigo was too much and the frontliner fell back against the corner he was in, optics going offline for a frightening minute or so until he was able to online his optics by force of will alone. He immediately shivered, more from the surprise of seeing two red optics glaring at him from a perch on his berth than from the pain.

"What are you doing here, Decpeti-brat. Don't you have to go and report back to Soundwave I got Megatron's message," he choked, noticing for the first time… his limbs were going numb and he was losing system relays to certain parts of his limbs.

The cat-former sat there a moment and then cocked her head as she replied over the comms, "Oh, not much… just watching you offline."

Sunstreaker shivered, "I'm not dying… its just a bug, a parasite my system is trying to rid."

The cat former chuckled with her vocals before replying, over the comm, "Yes, parasite. Not a very Autobot way to refer to a sparkling though a Con would. Are you sure you are not a Decepticon."

"Frag off," barked Sunny, shivering. "I'm dealing with it."

"How? By offlining? You de realize the dropping of a sparkling is not voluntary. It's just informing you so that you know you are sparked. Denying it will only cause your spark to overheat and offline," said the cat-former as she lay down on the berth lazily as if this wasn't a worry of hers. "Quite a nasty way to offline… if you don't cry out for help first. And, you being on the Primes side whom is more than aware of our species fading population… you'd have to keep it."

Sunstreaker spasmed and shook his head, "No. No! I don't want it to marked me as a traitor! They'll know I slept with Megatron and then I'll be marked as a slut-traitor and … and I hate my brother, but I …"

Ravage pretended Sunstreaker hadn't just hinted it was Megatron's sparkling, and murmured, "It was probably your brother's because if it was Megatron… he'll kill you himself to keep it quiet."

Shaking, Sunny took the hint and nodded his head. He didn't want Megatron knowing anyway… it was something that needed to go!

"Good, now just accept it. No one will notice at first and Soundwave, given his experience, will know how to get rid of it. Megatron doesn't want baggage," rumbled the cat-former as she rose to her feet and squatted for the jump up to the vent. "Be seeing you sex toy."

She was the gone… leaving Sunny with a decision or lack of one actually.

It was then, bawling like a little baby with his legs pulled into his chest, that Sunstreaker hit the accept option and the seizing stopped immediately, his whole body feeling warm as a little ball of heat traveled down and finally into his carrying camber. His whole body then felt warm, as if thanking him for allowing it acceptance.

That night, Sunstreaker stayed in the shower, weeping as the freezing water fell down on him. He knew Hound had heard him when he finally came back, but yet again he said nothing. Though, when Sunny woke in the morning he found the shower had been turned off and a cube of light grade had been left at his side. He might have been thankful if a part of him didn't know that a percentage of that energon was going to sparkling that was now firmly nestled in his abdomen, making itself a body.

…

Blaster sat in the control room, staring at a screen aimlessly until he was touched on the shoulder. He quickly put on a smile and turned to face Jazz.

"Yo, bro, what's up?"

Jazz lazed in the chair for a moment before he turned to the other, "Well, I wanted to ask about some rumors… after business of course. OP is mighty worried. Its been too long since we've heard a peep out of old Meg's. Yeah, he's been a silent snake before, get me, but something just seems off. So, we need to send in a spy… haven't decided who… Mirage is the best bet with his invisible man get up, but one of your little guys might be in the lime light this time. Either way, we are having meeting later today."

Nodding, the boom box stated, "Yeah, I get yah. Old Meg's was real pissed last time on the field… almost ripped off Prime's arm. He was might angry, stating he was interruptin' or something."

"He was just mad he never got to do in old Sunny; idiot kid. I'd have had 'im in the brig for that, but Ratchet's dealing with it," he stated. It was not a well kept secret but Prime was still absolutely fuming about the last battle in the silent reclusive way that he did… and it wasn't about the arm. Sunstreaker was slowly becoming a liability.

Blaster nodded, taking on a sad expression, "You think he might be sent to Ultra Magnus's team? Its just that lately… maybe'h there's something about the second born curse."

Frowning, Jazz stated, "I don' believe in curses, that's a human thing Blaster, but in the end its old Hatchet's decision… just like Prime promised him, but you are right… if ratchet can't do anything… Sideswipe might end up being the lonely brother."

"Yeah… separating twins can't be such … tragedy."

XXX

**Paw07: New Chapter! Not much edited on this one. If you guy's think any scenes are testing Mature rating a little too much, feel free to point it out and I will remove it. Also, AFF and DA will always update a few days sooner. I hate editing and it takes me a while. Regardless, links!**

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**... and if Fanfiction is murdering those links, they are also on my profile page. XD  
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	12. Simple Sorrows

Chapter12: Simple Sorrows

Sunny pulled his knees into his chassis again and listened to the drip drop of water falling from the shower head.

It might have driven any other mech mad but it was the only thing that kept him sane right now. The dripping was predictable, constant, so unlike his life had been recently. What was he going to do? He was … Heavy. He had been Heavy days before, sure, but now it was real. There was no way to wish it away or pray it would fade.

He was the cursed half after all.

Sighing, he hit the ignore button for his tanks again. He had lost almost everything in his tank before his route and then had done the entire route, loosing what little low grade he had taken in and now … the cube was still full at his side.

The thought of ingesting anything and it going to the sparklings growth make him want to lose his tank all over again.

Not that there was anything in there. He was running on reserve right now.

Offlining his optics, Sunstreaker ignored the pings but Prowl, asking where he was. He had security duty this afternoon.

…

Elsewhere, Soundwave watched as a grumpy looking Ravage flaunted her way into his quarters, the door sliding shut behind the cassette.

Not even looking up from his digi-pad, the blue mech asked, "Inquiry: why did you not report before returning to base."

"For one, I'm tired, and disgusted… I made the mistake of looking what phone sex was," growled the femme over the comm, squatting down before she finally leapt up onto the berth, laying down there as if to lounge.

Then, having looked around the room to make sure someone loud mouthed like Frenzy and Rumble wasn't around, she added, "We have a problem."

Having gained her creator's attention, he turned his head to his older creation, visor aglow, "… What kind of problem."

Laying her head on her crossed paws, as if still relaxing, she added, "That smell… let's say it's been pretty popular with you… when you were heavy."

Putting the pad down, the Communication Officer stated, "I see? Deactivation of mech required?"

Shaking her head, she purred through their bond, "He just needs notes on how to get rid of an unwanted pest. Be it Megatron's or not."

…

Back at Autobot headquarters, Ratchet slapped Ironhide on the back of the head before telling him to get out. Then, nodding to his trainee, he stated, "Swoop, I'm going to my office for a little bit. You mind watching over the medical bay?"

The large Dinobot nodded and went back to cleaning off some of the medical tools that had been recently used. The elder medic tried not to smile as he looked at the youth… it seemed that since the lesson with Sunstreaker's lions, the large mech had taken serious interest in his own equipment. He had even caught the youth, completely by accident, checking out his own lions.

The healer couldn't help but wonder who would take the youth's first time. Of course, if asked, Ratchet would do it for him, being professional and experienced in the matter, but he seriously hoped that the flier asked someone a little more in size range … Skyfire would be gentle.

Yet, despite his trainee's growth in the matters of living, he was worried about one mech that wasn't acting like he was living.

Sunstreaker had become rather reclusive in the last two or three days, more than usual. There was even a rumor going around that the sun colored mech might be ill and that Hound was grabbing his shifts, though apparently the idiot hadn't thought it was bad enough to come to see him about it.

Not that it mattered. Either way the front-liner was subject to his mercies being that he had sessions every Friday and that was coming up today. So, if Sunny was really ill, he'd take care of it then, if he was just depressed and moping… well, he'd try to take care of it then as well.

Unless Sunstreaker tried to skip out which would bring down all-fury from Ratchet. For one, besides his reclusive behavior of late, the healer was rather interested in what Hound had said the other day.

It still bothered him. Why was Sunstreaker speaking of Megatron? And from the recording he had gotten from Hound's databanks, it seemed anything but pained. The front-liner even raised an arm once and almost begged that name, the rest of the words lost to wheezing and heavy vents… and he been aroused?

Well, Megatron probably would make a hot wet fantasy with his large frame and dominating persona, but this seemed something more. In fact, it always led him back to the thought of that ripped equipment. There were a lot of large mechs in the Con's ranks. Could one of them…

… No, no. Sunstreaker was a loyal Autobot, believed in his cause though he was a little rough around the edges. He would have never willing slept with a Con for that matter let one rip him up like that.

Yet, there was the desert. He had been beaten and his only interest when he came back was not repairs, not even slagging his brother. Sunstreaker had wanted to be clean. He had wanted to wash something away. And the battlefield… Sunny had rushed onto the field as if he had been looking for revenge. Looking to hurt the warlord specifically only to end up having his scream echo over the field.

Who knew exactly what Megatron did in that time when Sunstreaker was behind enemy lines.

Ratchet stalled, nearly dropping his tool, as dark little puzzle pieces started falling together.

He immediately shook such thoughts off.

No, no. If something like that would have happened, Sunstreaker would have told him.

Unless… he was _ashamed_.

Chiding himself for such thoughts, he refused to think of it again, but … maybe he would press in their sessions. He had had more than one raped mech in his days, far more popular in the earlier years with younger mechs than now, the rapers killed by vengeful lovers or siblings, but mech's… especially in down time grew bored. Bored mechs, especially Cons, were dangerous.

Time passed quickly for the medic as the day went on, but his worries of Sunstreaker being raped did not pass, especially when he heard Hound came into the bay, looking worn and tired, Swoop immediately directing him to a berth and giving him a cube of high grade with metal infusions before even asking what was wrong.

Not that the younger trainee even got a chance, curiosity driving the medic out of his office, "Will you finish cleaning the parts I was organizing, Swoop. I'll take Hound."

Nodding his large head, the dino-bot headed towards the large sink were parts were being recycled and cleaned, placed back into the inventory. It was technically a form of cannibalization, as Ratchet recalled his disgust in the first few years of war, but recycling dead and living mech's unneeded or partially damaged parts had become a necessity… even in calm times. Never knew when one would run out of a good joint-ball.

The green mech, who was staring at the cube, finally looked up and asked the ambulance, "Do I look that bad?"

"Yes, your paint currently looks like a pale mint color than the usual forest green," said the healer in a slight hint of humor before he became more serious. "Drink it, _now_, before you fall over."

Shrugging his shoulders, Hound did just that, nearly gagging with how thick the energon was with metal and metal-flesh replacements. It was not a satisfying cube, slimy strings going down his throat, the green mech nearly gagging twice as Ratchet patted him on the shoulder, "Yep, drink it all at once and get it over with."

Finally finishing, a thin film of slim still in the bottom of the cube, Hound grumbled, "Ugh… my tank is going to regurgitate this. I-it is so nasty. Oh… so nasty. Ugh… I'm going to…"

"Head back," murmured the medic as if this reaction was nothing new, helping the mech tilt his head back as he placed his hand over the other mech's mouth, stating, "It is worse coming out. Just choke it down."

A few choking noises later, Hound finally titled his head back and gave his medic a pathetic look, "Isn't that for carriers and mech's that have been starving for a few vorns."

Ratchet nodded, slapping the green mech in the back of the head now that he knew he wasn't going to fall off the berth, "Yes, and idiots apparently. How many extra shifts have you been taking?"

The green mech looked down trodden as he admitted, "Too many."

"And for who?" asked the healer, already knowing.

Seeming to sink back, not liking that Ratchet was picking up a wrench and were this was likely going, "Sunstreaker."

"And why?"

Bitting a metal lip component, shrinking down as if preparing to be hit, he whispered, "Because … he hasn't been feeling well."

An optic twitched as the medic continued, "And why didn't you tell Prowl or send him to me?"

Scrunching up as much as he could, Hound whispered, "He asked me not to, he just wanted to rest."

The medic nodded, stating, "Ah, I see."

There was a moment of stillness and for a minute Hound unscrunched his shoulders thinking there wasn't going to be a punishment for his stupidity, but then … wham!

"Ouch!" cried Hound as he grabbed the side of his helm where the Hatchet had just slapped him with his wrench, which was not a regular occurrence for the tracker.

"I'm used to doing this to Sideswipe when it comes to his brother, but you are his roommate for a few days and bam, you are an idiot as well!" barked the medic. "If he's sick, especially if it's been a few days, you tell me! It might be a virus that's tricking his systems!"

Hound rubbed his helm, murmuring, "I'm sorry, but I don't think it's that… it's just a little tank sickness. He's been having trouble keeping it down."

Ratchet looked worried now, asking, "That is really serious, Hound. That sounds like a nasty virus. Has he been able to intake anything."

Looking away, Hound muttered, "Just low grade and he said it was parasite as well… but… the way he said it and has been acting…"

The tracker sighed, "He's been crying in the shower, Ratchet. It felt too … personal … to call up the Calvary, yah got me, Ratchet."

Letting out a gust of air from his vents, the medic nodded, "I understand. It might be emotional. Regardless, please inform me if it gets bad enough that he can't keep anything down in the future, will you?"

Hound nodded at the medic, glad he wasn't being hit again, stating, "So… what did you come in here for anyway beside the obvious exhaustion? Have you been having trouble recharging?"

The green mech shook his head, "No… I was actually coming to tell you about Sunstreaker."

For a moment the medic seemed surprised and a little bit embarrassed, "Oh… well, sorry about the wrench then. Nonetheless, I'm making you take some mandatory R and R. Take the next three day cycles to recharge and refuel and relax. And … to have another cube."

Hound wilted, thinking another cube was far more punishable then the wrench any day.

"And Sunstreaker's session is today so makes sure he shows up. I'll be doing a medical exam for him today."

…

Sunny hadn't heard the knocking, hadn't heard the troubled sigh nor the metallic footsteps on the titled floor. What he did hear... was the ceasing of his dripping faucet. His optics onlined immediately and he whined in his vocals when he saw his energon levels.

He was in the red.

Really in the red and Hound, who had invaded his shower, was kneeling at his side immediately, ""What are you doin'! Are you tryin' to seriously damage yourself? Have you not drank anythin' that I've been giving you?"

The twin stared, confused. He only had one cube … one? Slag, there were three cubes there. How had he not noticed that Hound had come in one or two other times? Slag… where had that day gone? Slag! Looking at his hub … he'd been in here three solar days.

Frag, fuck. I-it was Friday. No, no. How many shifts had he missed? Prowl was going to be pissed. Scratch that, Ratchet was going to kill him.

FRAG!

Moaning, he struggled to move, murmuring, "H-how long have I been o-out of it?"

Hound stopped Sunstreaker from trying to stand, murmuring, "About three day cycles and don't bother moving until after you've drank some energon."

Sunstreaker frowned as the mech opened one of the cubes that had been at his side and presented it to him, the green mech looking a little pale in the shower room's light. Sunstreaker would rather not drink it in all actuality, but he didn't want to have to fight with Hound especially when he had a feeling the green mech had been covering for him because there was no way Prowl wouldn't have trampled in here and demanded to know why he hadn't been going to his shifts or at least Ratchet.

Speaking of Ratchet, "Frag! Today is Friday isn't it?"

Hounded nodded, stating, "And he knows I've been covering for you the last few days. So don't bother lying to him."

Sunstreaker stilled, looking at the green mech in a mixture of confusion, thankfulness, and rage. Rage winning out as he nearly crushed the cube in his hand, "Y-you told him."

"That you haven't been feeling well? Yes… that you've been starving yourself of the last three day cycles. No," said Hound as he sat next to the sun colored mech, not even frightened at the prospect of getting hit.

Glaring for a moment, he gave into tiredness and, despite how sick it made him, he tipped back half the cube in one gulp, his systems going into yellow… barely. He didn't need the Hatchet doing an examination. He had to look healthy. He could take admitting he had… broken down.

He had. There was no denying it. He was breaking down. He needed to fix this, but until then he had to act normal. Well, _almost raped but certainly not Heavy_ normal.

Hound, watching the other choke down the second cube, Hound nodded and stated, "Give it a few minutes so it can get into all your systems and I recommended that you not do this again or I will go to Ratchet directly. I know you might just think of me as a room crasher but … I do care what happens to you."

The green mech, knowing that Sunstreaker didn't take to emotions well, rose to his feet and started for the door, stating over his shoulder, "Don't forget that you have that meeting with the Hatchet in a few hours. I was sent to remind you."

Nodding, watching Sunny start on the last cup of low grade, looking sicker than well with the energon now in him, the tracker turned for some well-deserved rest not missing the almost whisper, "Thank you, Hound."

It took him a good hour until the energon got to all of his systems so he could stand, taking a quick shower as he tried to wax himself, but the pale shade to his paint could not be waxed out. Regardless, he didn't need Ratchet coming to fetch him, so, as quite as possible in order to not wake the now recharging mech in the room, he left.

The walk down the halls nearly made him lose the energon he had struggled to intake. All he could think of was how he was going to hide the fact that he was Heavy. He knew that mechs' didn't expand the way humans did around the belly when with infants, but he knew there was expansion needed to house the sparkling.

How… he had never met a Heavy mech himself.

Femmes had spaces made for such reasons and he had no such empty space. What was going to happen?

Swallowing, deciding he wasn't far enough along for anyone to notice physically, he tried to shake off his worry. Ratchet would notice he was nervous and a medic would ask why and if he lied… Ratchet just knew shit.

He'd find out if Sunny wasn't careful.

Swallowing, deciding that maybe he would cry today so the medic would comfort him for an hour and then he could leave without really saying anything, Sunstreaker stepped into medic's territory. He immediately cringed when Swoop looked at him. Yeah, he still had not forgotten that degrading examination and would rather never recall it. His life was horrible enough, being the second born after all. True, he was already a little displaced given that he was prone to depression and anger since his spark had been abandoned in the dark, but the second born had a history of causing disturbances be it wars, killing sprees, dangerous viruses or in one case… foresight.

To this day, no one knew if the visions of famine and war and holy interventions were really seen by the second born, Anti-lock, and could not be changed or were caused because he said they would be.

It was rumored that there were still some visions that still had not come to pass and the only mech's that knew were the religious sort, all dead with the temples, and the Prime.

Shaking off the thought of his bad luck, how he had become Heavy was one in a million since they weren't even bonded and he was male on top of that, Sunstreaker wilted as Ratchet came up to him looking him up and down, "You are pale. In fact, you are more like pale yellow then a sunny gold."

"I'm in no mood for sarcasm," murmured Sunstreaker, really wishing to go back to his room and panic a little more before he took a nap. He was exhausted as well.

Ratchet frowned as he watched Sunstreaker's optics dim, his shoulder's seeming to slump. The kid was tired and hungry and worried if one was going off his posture and color alone and Ratchet had half the mind to slap the front-liner in the back of the head.

So it was true that Sunstreaker had been sick …

The medic didn't hit him though, there was a deep worry in Sunstreaker's optics and … that was the perfect time to try and pry. He hadn't gotten very far in their previous sessions, there had only had a handful. Regardless, if he didn't feel like he was getting anywhere soon… well, Optimus Prime wanted some results. Not mentally perfect, but at least proof of being mentally capable was what the semi probably expected to hear, but at this rate… Ratchet didn't feel like he was getting anywhere.

"Well come on. We should start now," murmured the medic, pointing towards his office.

Sighing like it was a horrible fate to go into the office, he trumped forward and took a seat as the healer stalled outside the door. He looked over his shoulder long enough to watch the Chief Medic take something from Swoop and thank him before coming up to Sunstreaker's side with a large cube… that swirled with grey and copper metals and purple and blue energy.

He immediately moaned, wincing away as the medic continued to hold it out to him, the front-liner's mood no longer so despondent, "Please… don't make me drink that."

This time Ratchet did slap the younger mech in the back of the head.

"Well, you have been locked in your room for days and from what I hear, unable to keep anything down. Prowl reported you were overheating the other day as well. Have you even been able to intake anything except low-grade?" growled the healer.

Sunny wilted into the chair, knowing he should feel mad at Hound because some of that information was just a little too close to self-starvation, but then again … Hound had been really good to him the last few days considering how Sunstreaker kept everyone at arm's length.

Hound was growing on him and so was Ratchet.

He had always had Sideswipe for company so that probably explained that.

Lately, he was feeling really lonely. Megatron could chase it away for a few moments and so could the thoughts of said mech, but his spark ached for his brother.

Maybe he would talk to Ratchet today, truthfully. He'd be easy on the medic because he needed someone to be easy on him. He felt so frail with that thing inside him, like it was eating all the walls around his spark and anything could crawl in.

Not wanting to struggle with the healer, he took the cube and gave the ambulance another pathetic look, "Do I have to. I had this stuff and isn't it only for seriously injured mechs?"

"And for ones that haven't been in-taking successfully. Now, have your energon and meta-flesh metal cocktail," said the medic, still standing there like a buzzard.

Sighing, too tired to fight the medic and a part of him wanting to get out of the office as soon as possible as if Ratchet might be able to see through his armor and see the… thing, Sunstreaker kicked it back all in one gulp, the stuff's sliming texture alone making him swallow hard. He only got to sit still for a mil-a-second before his hand was thrown over his mouth, his tank arching upward as he made gagging noises, leaning forward in his chair in case he lost the new contents.

Ratchet merely came forward and forced him to sit up a little straighter at an angle that made the gagging a little less terrible as he rubbed Sunstreaker's back, "Just ride it out. Just ride it out."

And he did, two minutes later sitting back in the chair and looking absolutely miserable though his color looked a little better already as if there was this glow about him.

Sitting down in his own chair across the way, taking out a digi-pad to write things down, Ratchet began.

"Now, to business. A lot has been going on, hasn't it?" said Ratchet, not quite sure what to go over today. There was the emotional stress and expectations of being a social pariah because Sunstreaker was second born, the fight with his brother, the night he injured his leg, the near rape by his brother, the mystery lover, the fight with Megatron and most recently Sunstreaker's illness. Though, given what he heard from Prowl and Hound, the healer doubted it was really a bug and more likely emotional stress.

Still licking his denta, a disgusted look on his face from his recent meal, Sunstreaker nodded, a hand unknowingly being placed on his abdomen, "Yeah, you could say that. Been a real horror show as of late."

Nodding, noting how Sunstreaker wasn't looking him in the optics, limbs pulled close in a way that signified that he was upset. Ratchet continued onward.

"So, is there anything that has been bothering you more than usual? I don't want to pick what we talk about, just what is bothering you the most?" said Ratchet, trying to get the conversation started.

Shrugging his shoulders, looking down at his hands for a moment, Sunny wanted to say, '_I'm pregnant and its really bothering me because its Megatron's and I have no idea how to abort it'_, but all he could state was, "Everything… hurts. My head hurts, my spark hurts and I just want someone to frag me and make it all go away."

Sunny's own optics went wide at the admittance, cursing himself for being so blunt. He knew he was tired and exhausted and emotionally drained, but to just come out and say he wanted nanites in him. Frag… it had to be the sparkling's fault. It was making him horny… it wanted its father to feed it.

Or anyone for that matter.

Screw it.

Ratchet nodded, writing something down quickly as he asked, "And was the feeling that drove you to have relations with the mech that ripped you and still remains unnamed? Have you been interfacing to dull this feeling?"

Ratchet couldn't help but jot down several diagnoses from that sentence alone. It just screamed sexual depravation and need and trouble developing relationships and an acute possibility of developing an interface addiction. He had yet to meet one of the said femmes or mechs that were interface addicts, but he had heard of them. Apparently, they had to frag every day or they would start getting the shakes like they were doped on Drive-sticks, little electric sticks one stuck into sensitive equipment so they were always getting little charges. It wasn't highly destructive physically, for an addiction, but left a lot of emotional scarring.

Still for a moment as if he was unsure if it was true or not, Sunstreaker decided to admit the truth, "I don't know. The night we ran into eat other… we might have killed each other… but he then noticed my spark's stress and told me … he wasn't afraid of me and he wanted me. He's been having me since."

Ratchet actually looked up, feeling a little sick at how hollow those words of fear were from Sunny, but not uncommon. Many mechs and femmes feared the second born or pitied them. The second born always had a horrible end if it was to being publicly executed for starting an uprising to suicide to keep the dark out of their spark. The second borns always had sad endings.

A cruelty by Primus some would say. It was even rumored that sometimes if a femme knew she was with twin sparks… she'd abort them both and try again.

He had seen more than one case.

Deciding to grab onto that line, Ratchet asked, "And why would mechs, beside Cons I mean, have to be afraid of you?"

Glaring as if it was obvious, a bit of rage overcame the exhaustion, and Sunstreaker decided to spit out, "Because I'm the fraggen second born! Everyone always expected it! They either expected me to become some kind of psychopath and kill everyone or to just one day decide living isn't worth it and end it. Or… if Primus really liked me he would give me some visions. Do you know how many second borns have apparently been given cursed abilities! I heard one mech could hear the dead and it drove him mad! It's even rumored that those gifts come from the darkness we are alone in, that they are from Unicron himself!"

Placing a hand up, noting that Sunstreaker was about to rise out of his seat and probably start punching things, Ratchet murmured, "I know the rumors, Sunstreaker. You needn't tell me … and personally, I think they are just social expectations that are forced on mechs so that they think their lives have to have those types of outcomes."

Sunstreaker looked like he was about to blow again when the medic decided to save that for another day, wanting to keep Sunstreaker calm as possible today. He asked, "But… tell me more about this mech. Did you like those words? Does he say those kinds of warm things to you often or is it just interfacing?"

Lowering into his seat, the thought of Megatron automatically calmed him, those large hands and how the warlord had promised he'd never hurt his lovers was calming in every way for Sunstreaker. Megatron truly was a thoughtful lover if just a little rough before he was about to come. Megatron even worried about ripping him for Primus's sake.

Uncertain of his feelings, Sunstreaker stated, "I like his equipment and he always makes sure it's good for me. He felt bad when he found out he ripped me so badly and … and I feel good just thinking about him."

Ratchet knew it was just hanging on the edge of Sunstreaker's tongue, second borns that had bond mates historically showing to do very well, so Ratchet asked, "Do you think you might want it to become more than just interfacing? Do you think you might have feelings of kinship? Maybe even love?"

Love would be good for Sunstreaker, very _very_ good. The healer just hoped that this mystery mech wasn't fucking with Sunstreaker just to get frags easily because that could end badly with such an emotionally distressed front-liner. Frag, Ratchet wished he knew who it was that was fragging the sun colored bot so he would either worry or banish such thoughts about the relationship. He was a good judge of character and he would know the moment Sunstreaker gave him the name if the feelings were genuine or for a cheap frag.

So far it didn't sound like the later though.

Optics going wide, as if the word '_love'_ had never occurred to him, Sunny quickly dismissed it, "N-no. He's not that type of mech. He is kind to his lovers, but he doesn't … he's not into that. It would never work out anyway. We are too different."

Shaking his head, frustrated that a name or at least a hint at the fragger's identity hadn't been slipped yet, Ratchet asked, "How do you know? He might be like you… he keeps his emotions to himself. He might be feeling the same way about you and he doesn't know if you're that type of mech to want him in a more permanent manner."

"P-permanent?" whispered Sunstreaker, pressing his hand against his abdomen plating.

Ratchet, surprised by how desperate and afraid and needy that word was, titled his head and murmured, "Yes, bond mates … sparklings. Growing ancient together."

Sunstreaker looked depressed and wanting at the same time, love sick and confused if Ratchet had a word for it. It now seemed maybe splitting up with Sideswipe momentarily for a while was a good thing. Sunstreaker was now developing his own relationship. Did it have a healthy start, not the best from the sounds of it, but he had heard worse from happy couples.

Well, at least those rape worries from earlier now seemed less and less likely. Sunstreaker wouldn't love a Con. He was too much of an Autobot for such a grave sin. So it wasn't a raper that had ripped Sunstreaker's lions. At least he still prayed that as just a paranoid thought.

"Not stating you have to worry about bonding ceremonies or anything like that quite yet Sunstreaker, but you don't have to keep a distance from him if you feel like there is more there. Just talk with him, see if you want something more intimate than interfacing," continued Ratchet, trying not to smile at his gift horse.

Yes, Sunstreaker had issues, there was no denying it, but a healthy relationship could really improve sour outlooks and emotional stress. This nameless lover had to be a good thing. Primus had given the youth too many bad things lately to give him another hard option.

Wanting to keep this light-sparked to increase communication between the two of them, and so that Sunstreaker could maybe dissect if this was in love or not, Ratchet decided to try an exercise, stating, "Alright, for the rest of this session, I want you to tell me what you think love is and what spark-bonding is about and then tell me what you think our society's definition of those things are as well."

Sunstreaker frowned, hating this idea already.

Ratchet mere nodded, not dissuaded, "Don't be like that, there are no wrong answers either way."

A few minutes later, notes jotted down and feeling like they had got somewhere today, Ratchet patted the sun colored warrior on the shoulder, his EM field pouring out for a moment in a comforting manner as the healer stated, "We had a good talk today. Talking, even about things like bonding and no-name lovers," Sunny glared for a moment at the jab, "is good for the spark. Hopefully, next week will go well too. Now, gather yourself and then you can head to a berth in the main room."

"B-berth? Why?" said Sunstreaker, his spark that had been light a moment ago now sinking as the truth started to settle back into his tank. He was Heavy. Did Ratchet want to see if he was Heavy? He had talked a lot about fragging today and maybe the healer had suspicions now.

Frag, frag, frag! He should have kept his mouth shut!

Ratchet stalled and then gave a comforting smile, not noticing Sunstreaker's inner panic as he stated, "Just want to make sure that you are okay, having been down so many days, and to check your spark. Nothing that will take too long. Just routine maintenance"

Sunstreaker merely nodded and Ratchet led him to a berth.

He felt sick.

XXX

Paw07: Yeah, Sunstreaker angst is wonderful and so it the question of love and a cliff hanger as well. Yay! Also, not much censored from this chapters, just some descriptions about mechs special places. XD


	13. Prognosis

**Note**: This chapter has been **censored** because of MA rating. If you are of age, you can follow the links on my profile to read them in full. :)

Chapter 13: Prognosis

Sunstreaker balled his hands into fists so they wouldn't shake.

He could run away or punch Ratchet in the _face_ and then run away. He didn't see that solving much except for him getting thrown into the brig before his medical examination.

This was going to happen. There was no denying it. There was no way to hide it… unless it was too soon for anyone to tell. The little thing was no longer nestled up against his spark after all, but in his chamber and he doubted that the medic was going to grope around there.

… Though Ratchet could be very thorough, there was no denying that.

Swallowing, he noticed that it was one of the shifting berths he had been lead to, the kind that folded at a tilt so a mech's inner mechanics could be examined or their spark … or their personal equipment if the knees were propped up.

Sunstreaker legs went numb at the prospect.

"Well," said the medic, still looking confident from their earlier discussion. "On the table. Make yourself comfortable. We have a few things to check today."

Sunstreaker, whose hand had just gingerly been placed on the berth to keep away the horror of what was to come, looked up and choked, "We?"

Ratchet, turned and gave him a look, "Yes, _we_. I will not leave a lesson half complete. Now sit down. First Aid will be by to hook you up into the berth in order to read your vitals and see if there are any viruses bouncing around in there making you sick or if it was a … mental… ailment of late."

Frowning hard, Sunstreaker almost walked out of there in an angry fit but Ratchet quickly noticed glare at the word _mental_ and added, "Not that that is a bad thing, Sunstreaker. As long as those emotions are sorting themselves out in a healthy manner. There is nothing wrong with expressing them."

The silence might have unsettled a lesser mech, but Ratchet had neither the time nor the patience for such glowering and headed off to get his tools. First Aid, in exchange, came up behind him and gave Sunny a nervous look, the front-liner's optics glowing harshly as an expression of his mood.

The young medic shrunk back, noticing the threat, and actually took a step back until he slammed into something. First Aid immediately turned around and choked on his words, "Oh, Swoop. Sorry. I didn't see you there."

"No you wouldn't see Swoop. Swoop behind you. It's okay," said the flier as he turned to look at Sunstreaker, asking First Aid, "Why Sunstreaker still standing there. He's supposed to be getting hooked up?"

First Aid looked over his shoulder at the Lamborghini, a whine almost being birthed in his throat as those blue optics ripped into his very spark. At least it felt that way. The young medic was almost positive that if he went over there and asked Sunstreaker to get on the berth one of his arms would be ripped off and he would be beaten to deactivation with it.

And then Sunstreaker would laugh manically over his bloodied remains.

Truthfully, a part of his mind chided him for that thought. Sunstreaker was an Autobot, but then again he got the same image in his head whenever Ratchet glared at his work… though Ratchet would always have a buzz saw to do his maiming. The maniacal laugh with lightning in the background was always the same though.

Even Prowl's version had that, minus the laughing. It was more an evil smile with him.

Watching First Aid's visor dim, Swoop shook his head, knowing what was wrong since the other mech did it to Ratchet all the time though their teacher hardly noticed. First Aid didn't want to touch Sunny. Pushing gently pass the meeker healer, Swoop's huge form overshadowed Sunstreaker's form, "Scary glare not scare me, pretty bot. Must Swoop help pretty bot on or you get on yourself?"

Growling, not wanting to dare think of the degradation if Swoop had to force him onto the table, Sunstreaker turned to look at the berth and then … got on. He almost felt dizzy as he laid down his helm, turning off his optics as he tried to pretend he wasn't here. Though that illusion was ruined as he felt two sets of hands make quick work of hooking him up, his helm being shifted to the side as wires were plugged in as well as in various other ports. He almost wined as he felt medical code press against his firewalls. He knew he could fight against them if he wanted but then the machines would start to wail that something was wrong, and so he reluctantly allowed his firewalls down.

He shivered as they started pressing into his systems, looking for active commands and unknown lines of code.

Mind still stuck on the medical machines penetrating him, he almost yipped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, fingers tilting his helm to the side. He couldn't look at Ratchet as the medic put in the last cord.

"There we go. We'll do a routine examination and check … your spark chamber," said the healer. "Now, I can already tell that your systems are stressed. Maybe I'll give you some medical code for that … but let's see."

The next half a joor was full of Ratchet muttering to his two students as plating was pulled and wires were tugged, before Ratchet turned to the yellow mech, "You look to be in good health, though your metal looks like it might have did some minor cannibalizing of late. Not uncommon if your leg is trying to fit itself perfectly, but my measurements … I was sure my measurements were perfect. Your body shouldn't have had to cannibalize for anything."

Sighing as he pulled back and pinched his noise bridge, Ratchet murmured, "Well, you will be having a few more energon and meta-flesh metal cocktails until your metal starts to restore itself."

Sunstreaker moaned in disgust as he onlined his optics, growling, "That's it … I'm getting off of the table. That's my torture level for the day."

Ratchet just pressed down on the yellow mech's armor to keep him still as the healer grumbled, "I think not, unless you want a wrench to the face. Stay still while I have a look under that chassis. I'm pretty sure I know what the problem is."

What little calm he was able to collect while be examined with nothing going wrong, died in Sunstreaker's throat. There was no doubt in his mind that the sparklet had left some kind of mark on his spark. His shoulders went stiff and he actually twitched as he felt Ratchet felling against his chassis for the lift.

The medic's finger quickly rubbed against it, but he didn't pull the lift, murmuring to his two students, "Now, for this type of model, given their thickened armor for war… it's kind of hard to get to. Now, feel right here."

Sunstreaker twitched as he felt two other sets of hands feel into the groove, then Ratchet whisper for them to press it and a large set of fingers did just that, his chest opening … light pouring outward onto all the medics' faces.

Ratchet swore lightly and Sunstreaker offlined his optics, fearing the worst as his metal fingers dug into the berth. The sparklet had to have left a mark of some kind or a tunnel all the way down into his carrying chamber, he didn't know how mech carrying worked, yet … there was no demand of who the sire was or a hand symbolically placing itself on his abdomen.

Instead, the medic sighed heavily, murmuring, "Sunstreaker … you should have told me your spark was so weak. It would have explained everything … the fatigue and the trouble keeping your energon down. If the spark is incredibly stressed it will distressed the rest of your systems. Though … the pains you were probably having in your chest should have been informed you to come to me sooner."

Growling in his throat, lecture over because Sunstreaker didn't seem to be replying, Ratchet reached down into the chassis towards the spark. Sunny arched immediately at the careful touch, his spark far more sensitive then he would have thought.

Ratchet immediately let go as well, surprised by the spark's reaction. That kind of reaction was something one would see from a mech a few clicks from overload. Frowning as he rubbed his hands that were now tingly all over, Ratchet murmured, "Apologizes, Sunstreaker. I didn't know your spark was so sensitive. Though, given that reaction, perhaps your spark isn't as badly off as it seems. Though, as your physician, you need someone to stabilize you with in the week… "

Sunstreaker gave him almost a horrified expression, wishing to melt into the table because Ratchet had basically just told him to go get fragged. It was even worse because the two students both refused to look at him.

"Do you understand Sunstreaker?" asked Ratchet as he reached for a different tool.

The front-liner was still a bit flabbergasted over the 'get sparked' comment and that he hadn't been found out about the sparkling yet, that he dully murmured, "So … I need to frag someone and stabilize my spark by the end of the week or … you will assist me?"

"Or another officer," said Ratchet as he leaned in, now speaking to his students, "Now, observe carefully. It's not every day you will see this. Look at the spark's activity and how it's pressing in and shivering. A half spark cannot support itself, so another spark or the other twin would generally counteract this degrading by charging it through spark sharing. In the case of deactivation of one of the twins, this degrading would be far faster and generally would lead to deactivation if a bond mate doesn't exist with the surviving member. Sunstreaker's spark is merely decaying rapidly because of stress which is normal in a stressed twin. It is a type of reaction that happens to force a bonding with the other half in order to share emotions and complete the spark. That's why after fighting … it isn't uncommon for twins to bond."

Sunstreaker titled his head away, his hands becoming fists. It felt like Ratchet was chiding him from being too stubborn to forgive his brother.

The two students were merely silent though, no opinions offered until Ratchet encouraged them to reach in and check the spark for damage as well as the surrounding circuits. Sunstreaker knew his hands were shaking at this point, that he felt like he was being molested by the multiple sets of hands inside his chassis, yet after some minor soldering and few more jolts when someone touched his spark casing … they seemed to be done with his spark until First Aid piped up asking, "Ratchet, what's with this scar on the glass?"

Ratchet and Swoop immediately dove back in and Sunstreaker kneed in worry, only to be pressed back into the table by Ratchet as the medic murmured, "Hmm, odd. It could be a bond scar, though Sunny only had Sideswipe which is a weak bond but not broken, or …"

Ratchet was silent for a moment the silence setting in the air before Swoop piped up, "Or what?"

"… A sparklet release," murmured Ratchet.

Sunstreaker almost jumped off the table at the word but Ratchet pulled away, adding, "Which with twin sparks, when they separate from one spark to make two, can leave a mark like that. Not generally the case with all twins, but not uncommon. Now, we have one last thing to check. That peda-flesh between Sunstreaker's legs. I want to make sure it took and I just as wells give him a proper examination since I will be down there," said Ratchet, hitting a button on the side of the berth to make it tilt slightly, the metal bending and rising up his knees. Sunstreaker had always wondered what that button was for and now … he wished he never knew, his peds' placement forcing his thighs apart with the transforming table.

Sunstreaker immediately twitched at the movement, almost jumping off the table.

He was just saved his spark showing no noticeable signs of being Heavy yet here was Ratchet about to grope his inner chamber.

He knew Primus hated him, but really?

Apparently not, be it because of the stress or the equipment Ratchet was using or the medical files searching his systems, Ratchet never got a full examination because Sunstreaker's tank just said no… and a spelching noise filled the room as Sunstreaker turned his head in time lose the medical grade all over the floor. He puked again at re-tasting that medical cocktail. He almost lost his contents again at the thought that now Ratchet was going to make him drink another glass of that stuff, but somehow kept it down.

… But at least Ratchet pulled that thing out of him.

Sighing, giving the fluid-covered tool to First Aid as he murmured for him to take a sample, Ratchet walked over to Sunstreaker's side … the side that hadn't been dirtied. He petted the mech's lower forearm, grumbling, "You could have given me warning. That grade takes forever to make."

Sunstreaker merely groaned as spittle and energon dripped down his chin, the yellow mech pulling his knees closer in order to roll over on his side. In truth, he was so near to weeping, it wasn't funny. His tank did ache but mostly his spark did. It was pounding so hard in his chassis, pressing into the bond with Sideswipe so desperately for comfort that Sunny didn't know if he would be able to hold out.

H-he had almost been discovered.

Whining in distress, he barely noticed that Ratchet had started rubbing circles on his back as the healer before he started staring at the hologram-monitor above Sunstreaker's head. Squinting for a moment, he turned to Swoop and asked softly, "Please get a processed cube or two with a line. We are going to directly put it in his engine. Hopefully, if it is a bug, the plug-ins will find it. Sunstreaker… you'll be here a while. Just bunker down for recharge, alright?"

Sunny nodded and moaned again as he covered his face with a spare hand, hating the medical codes that were bouncing around in his system and the thought that they were going to be there twice as long now because Ratchet was going to double check for viruses. Primus, it wouldn't pick up on a sparkling, would it?

Fear sparking in his chassis again, pressing so roughly against the bond, Sunstreaker finally gave in and allowed a soft feeling of fear through the link. He hadn't forgiven Sideswipe, no… but… but he needed something. Especially since deep down he knew he couldn't hide the sparkling forever. It had to go… within the week if he could. He had to hide this shame. Frag, he felt even more ashamed now, having given into the bond, Sideswipe having noticed it seemed as he latched onto the miniscule emotion. Sideswipe always knew when to take advantage, like he was right now, taking the small opening in the bond as an opportunity to press in emotions of begging and affection and longing. He was pressing so hard that Sunny was almost tempted to allow the bond fully open, to cry out for help.

He didn't though. He just gripped onto the small snippets of affection that leaked through.

Offlining his optics, pressing himself into recharge because he knew he was going to be stuck on this table now, he begged Sideswipe for more warm feelings. Sideswipe only stalled for a moment before all the other emotions disappeared and were replaced with warmth and affection and want. Sunny whimpered at the show of affection, a part of him having forgotten just how wonderful his brother's spark was as he grabbed onto all the warm feelings he could in order to try and strive off the cold darkness that was originating because of his birthing chamber.

And that was how he slowly started to fall into recharge, medical hookups beeping at him. Though he was positive that he had heard Sideswipe plead at medical door to be let in before he completely fell into recharge.

He wanted Sideswipe back so badly right now, his spark shivering in fear and uncertainty, though he knew it would never work. He could only touch Sideswipe; he could never share with him again. Never could he show his double betray, triple betrayal once the sparklet was aborted.

By then… his spark would be too dirty for Sideswipes. Biting his lip at the thought, he silently prayed that no one heard his engine hiccup as recharge remained absent a few moments longer, the curtain barely even a shelter for his misery. Just how was he going to fix this?

…

Ratchet sat in his office, jotting down on a digi-pad. The frown would not disappear from his face. Something was up, not only with Sunstreaker's mind, but his body. The scanners still hadn't found a virus and Sunny's equipment was acting like it was _adjusting_ itself. Was it a natural reaction to being twinlessness, the body trying to make itself more presentable to attract a bed buddy to stabilize the spark?

He had never heard of it.

Well, it truth he hadn't yet found any research on it. Probably because it was uncommon for half sparks to survive without the other, or if they did, the remaining one was too depressed to care about spark sharing and generally died shortly after. Sideswipe was still alive so Sunstreaker wouldn't' go into full-blown grieving and could siphon feelings through the bond if he was desperate. Though, knowing Sunstreaker, he was probably too stubborn for that.

So, was the oddity in the mech's personal equipment a type of mate attraction? With the spark the way it was, maybe. But what of that scar? He had done examinations on the twins before, but he didn't recall that in either one. It would be something he would generally note as well so if another medic would see it they would have an idea of how old the scar was and if it was in danger of harming the spark.

Well, considering all the oddities, at least the session had went better then he hoped and though the valve's odd condition bothered him, he had sample of the grey lube. Though, maybe with more observation, maybe the two symptoms would show a connection. Had he pried some emotions out of the youth about things more than love with the front-liner today. After all, the lack of expression is just as important. It can mean a background of abuse and pain…

_Like rape_…

Ratchet stopped jotting, frowning when he realized he was jotting down his thoughts. The word "rape" jagged and harsh. He immediately put the pad down and rubbed his optics.

No, no. Sunstreaker had feelings of love for his newest partner… unless the newest partner was sought out to press off the pain of rape. Uh, no… H-he didn't want to think about someone raping Sunstreaker. It was too heartbreaking.

"Ratchet?"

The healer immediately perked his head up and looked at the hulking form that was standing in his doorway. He blinked in surprise and then waved his hand, Optimus slowly walking in, the door shutting behind him. Then, with a grace that one wouldn't expect from his frame type, Optimus slowly sat down on the opposite side of the desk. For a moment Optimus just stared at him with those doll-blue optics of his. It was like he was observing the soul… trying to find ways to fix it.

Shaking off the errie feeling, Ratchet asked, "What brings you to my office today, Optimus?"

The large mech sighed and blinked his optics for a moment as he slouched, out of sight from all of his soldiers, his tone tired as he asked, "Ratchet, I'd hate to badger you, I know I left Sunstreaker under your jurisdiction, but I have to know, how goes your progress with the front-liner? I really would like to have him on the front line as soon as he you can. Megatron's silence is … _troubling_. He has been acting odd, distracted almost. I don't even want to imagine what he is up to."

Ratchet nodded, turning off the digi-pad as he murmured, "I can keep him on light duty but I still don't want him on the field. I'm still worried about him… He has deeper problems then the _situation_ with Sideswipe. Though, since Sideswipe came by today after Sunstreaker's examination … well, they slowly seem to be reaching out to each other. It might take a vorn or two, but they might be able to make up. So, for now you will have to do with just Sideswipe I'm afraid."

Optimus nodded at that, "Yes, that situation was troubling on its own but at least it's not hopeless. They both might be reckless on the battlefield but at least they were a good team. Watched each other's backs very well."

Ratchet nodded and leaned to the side, reaching for something in one of his drawers as he added, "If you call coming back maimed _watching each other's back_."

Optimus chuckled softly and behind his desk, Ratchet smiled softly as well. It was times like this, in the stillness, that he felt like this was still the Golden Age. That Optimus and him were just having a good chat, calmly, none of the screaming or barking demands that came from a lot of the other officers in a time of battle.

He was sure that he would have given up long ago, overcome by heart ache, if Optimus wasn't here. An ever present harbor.

Pulling out one of his famous cocktails, Optimus chuckled again as the cube was handed to him. Perhaps knowing to well that if he came into the medbay, it was an excuse for Ratchet to prod at his health.

"I hope this isn't the one that makes you gag," mutter the Prime as he removed his face mask, knowing all too well there was no point in fighting his medical officer.

Shaking his head as he pulled out the same kind of medical grade cube, the medic murmured, "No, I gave most of those to Hound and Sunstreaker today. These are high grade with finely ground metals like copper and just a little bit of steal for filling in broken joints. Rather tasty metals even though they are mostly fillers."

Optimus chuckled, his lips wearing that angel smile of his. It was a sad soft expression that he almost always wore when he took off his mask in privacy. He wasn't beautiful or anything of the kind. His face was normal, almost like an older Bluestreak. Optimus kept the mask to protect his face and because he had made a promise, long ago… a promise only a few knew. He would wear that battle mask until the day he considered the war over.

"Indeed," murmured Optimus as he took a sip.

"Yes, and don't worry so much, Optimus. Like I said last time… he's been hurting a long time but maybe separating from Sideswipe for a while wasn't entirely a bad thing."

Stalling in his second sip, his deep rumbling voice asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, for one, it seems he's actually made a friend. Hound and him are good for each other. You'll have to complement Prowl on the rooming decision," added Ratchet as he pulled out a second treat, a rust stick, placing one in his drink like a makeshift straw as well as Optimus' cube. He saw Spike do this once with a straw and had thought it stupid at the time, but lax moments like these … it seemed fitting in the calm.

Optimus looked at the rust stick for a moment before taking it out, not even bothering to suck on it like a youngling would have, as he started munching on it, waving his hand as a sign for his officer to continue.

"Also, it seems that conversation we had about who ever was fragging Sunstreaker," Optimus blushed as he recalled that embarrassing conversation when Ratchet asked if he was fragging the golden solider, "has stolen his spark. He might have something more than a crush going on. I wish I knew who he was though … so if I could observe it as a healthy relationship or not."

Nodding in agreement, Optimus took another sip, still a bit embarrassed by this type of conversation. And the silence may have reigned forever if Ratchet hadn't spoken again.

"I still think it's Jetfire. He's just too bashful to admit it," said Ratchet, feeling the high grade start to take effect.

Optimus almost spit out his drink as he laughed before he could sputter, "I could not see him working well with Sunstreaker's dominating personality."

Smirking, the medic shook his head, "Well, who them? It isn't you. I don't see Ironhide lying nor tapping that and well… I've heard Perceptor might have gotten an upgrade because he wanted to be on top, but does he seem the type to dominate Sunstreaker?"

The two high officers looked at each other for a moment before they both roared in laughter, nearly falling out of their seats. The rest of the day was like that for the two veterans as they slowly forgot Sunstreaker's problems, the two of them falling into old times before war and energon and suffering. Days when Optimus was a dock worker and Ratchet was still in training.

XXX

Paw07: I love slightly intoxicated Optimus. It seems that Ratchet is always an instigator after that though. Also… next chapter we get some Sunstreaker/Megatron time. Mmm. And as always, this has been a censored chapter.


	14. Phone Sex Mech

Chapter 14: Phone Sex Mech

Hound shifted on his berth and readjusted himself as if trying to get into a better position to read his digi-pad, pretending not to look at Sunstreaker (whom had finally gotten out of Ratchet's care after a day and a half, his color back) as the yellow mech continued to shine the same spot in his forearm for the last hour or so. Shifting again and making a voorm sound, the equivalent of clearing one's throat, Hound's gaze finally made the yellow mech look up and bare his teeth.

"What!"

Looking at his digi-pad, abusing his R&R, Hound struggled not to grin as he replied, "I didn't say anything."

"Then why do you keep looking at me! You've been doing that since I escaped from the Hatchet. Just let me wax myself in peace," growled Sunstreaker, his mind trying to distract itself by minding Hound. His thoughts were too heavy from Sunstreaker's worries of being Heavy, needing to abort it, and balancing his spark yet keeping the truth from Megatron as they fragged.

He probably would be able to hide it when fragging a mech he had no bond to or he could just spark from behind, thoughts couldn't get through but then again… Megatron would be guarded and would detect treachery. He was a warlord. Then again, he fragged a lot of mechs and femmes. Maybe he could keep his thoughts hidden and probably kept out other mechs and femmes' thoughts to protect his systems, just drinking in emotions.

Hound, still not looking up from his pad, stated, "I'm reading my pad, Sunstreaker. Not staring nor am I stopping you from waxing yourself."

Optics becoming slits, the twin growled, "I said looking, not staring."

Looking up finally, the green mech asked, "And they differ how?"

Sunny just continued glaring… and kept glaring and kept glaring until Hound couldn't read his pad anymore and looked up, barking, "What?"

The glare could have pierced his very spark with its intensity.

Frowning, wondering if a brawl was about to break out, he asked, "Will you stop staring."

Some more glaring and staring continued along with an optic twitch.

Finally, Hound gave in, "Fine, I noticed you seem distracted. You have been waxing the same part of your forearm for about an hour. Something on your mind?"

Sunstreaker's optics gained a fearful and shamed expression before his shoulder's shagged and he stared at his waxing rag. It was then that he realized it was a rag Sideswipe had given to him. It was a good grade or anything but it had been his favorite. It reminded him of a time when Sideswipe and him had been happy, when his art bloomed and people ogled those lovely pieces with amazement, joy, and … dare he guess… love and passion.

All of those emotions had been there for him, for what a second born had done.

Unfortunately, only one of his paintings had survived that he knew of. It was in his closet with his few remaining art supplies he had taken with him, no time for art during war. That last treasure was not of Cybertron's lost skyscrapers or the lost crystal gardens. It was of him and his brother. An emotional piece with flaws and wild lines and colors too bright, but it was how he had seen the two of them in his mind and spark, hands melted together and helms leaned against each other with their backs to the painting as they stared at a rising star in the distance.

Separate but one, glowing and warm … and happy.

He took in a deep intake, picturing it in his mind. It was like a living memory now. Something of the past. Never to be again.

_Do you think you might have feelings of kinship? Maybe even love?_

Those words echoed in his head from Ratchet. He couldn't do anything about the abortion or stabilizing his spark right now… unless Hound wanted to frag him, but for some reason … that thought bothered him. He wanted a different type of affection from Hound. He wanted a hearty laugh, a chuckle as the door would closed, a soft smile just because Sunstreaker had been frowning too much.

He wanted a friend.

It was a type of love he hadn't had much of lately, though there were many types he had read of once. He wanted this type of love though, soft and gentle like a shared whisper from a remembered joke or intertwined strings that jumped over each other like moving jump ropes, shifting at the same pace but never intertwined.

Looking Hound in the optic he stated, "How about I show you … for there are no words for my passion and sorrow."

Hound looked confused, wondering if he should comm. Ratchet for help with the sad smile that gripped itself on Sunstreaker's lips, especially when he started banging around in his closet. It took him several minutes until Sunny came out with what looked like a easel and a metallic-painting pad, powdered metals and melting torch sticks… classic tools for an artist.

He had never seen so many emotions cover Sunstreaker's face in one day be it joy, horror, rage, sorrow, or lust.

He worked for a few hours until Hound asked to see it and then front-liner smiled, a happy smile that had been forgotten due to the war; days before whatever haunted him when his soul was young having never been stained in the dark. He even offered a coy grin as he stated, "That would ruin the picture. You have to wait for it to be done."

Hound smiled the rest of the day because Sunstreaker had smiled and he just couldn't wait to see the portrait that displayed all of a forgotten soul's emotions.

…

Later that evening, when the day was done, Sunstreaker's spark gave a nasty throb and the mech was forced to roll over in his berth and sigh. Painting for Hound had released some of his tension, but Ratchet's words were still worrying him. He knew his spark was stressed and he knew it was all the sparkling's fault. If it was because he kept denying it or because it's very creation had exhausted his spark, he didn't know.

Didn't care.

It had to go.

Frag, that damn cat said Soundwave would help him. He didn't know how long it would take before it started showing, but one thing was for sure… He needed to get a hold of Soundwave, but the only number he had was Megatron's.

His equipment gave a throb at the thought.

Frag, he should be freaking out yet here he was … horny. Biting his lip, wondering if he should put his streatcher stick in and rut around on his berth, careful not to wake his roommate… the mech slowly got up and considered reaching toward the bedside stand where he kept his streatcher only to stall.

He … wanted the real thing and Megatron did want to see him. It was also late and no one was stalking him like they were Sideswipe.

He could just wander off and … make love… to. N-no. he had to get rid of this problem first. He needed that cat-former to get back to him. If Megatron found out he was carrying, he's probably rip it out himself. Yes, a part of him believed that Megatron had meant what he said that night in the desert … that he would never hurt him.

But … had his words figured in a sparkling?

Probably not.

Male pregnancies were so rare.

Biting his lip as his reproductive equipment twitched in want again, Sunstreaker decided that … it was time to call that number. He had heard some of the human males joking about it once and it was a way he could have Megatron without actually touching him. Looking back at Hound, the mech dead in recharge, the yellow mech grabbed his stretcher and subspaced it as well as a rag.

He knew a nice quiet place in the Ark that was more mountain than ship where he could … pleasure himself as he spoke to the mech he was going to imagine was with him.

Jogging down the halls, making it seem to others that he was heading for a midnight snack though in the end he merely skipped the rec. room, he got to a part of the ship that had stalagmites. Looking around, knowing full well that Red Alert was probably wondering what he was doing in this part of the ship if he was on shift, Sunstreaker decided he didn't care and slipped into a stone groove between the metal of the ship … and the mountain. It took some ducking and a few twists and turns but finally the mech found himself alone. It was a cave that had formed given time and calcium and had a smooth cool portion of floor … perfect for lying down on and pleasuring oneself.

He did not want someone walking in on his again, masturbating again like Sideswipe had with Jazz.

Lying down, Sunstreaker was quick to pop his cod piece, smiling almost wickedly as he started messing with himself and waited for the other to reply to his hails. Frag, why was he so horny? He was Heavy. He should he bawling in the shower, not in a cave. Frag, whatever, he needed that Cat to uphold her part of the deal and tell her Master he had a problem that needed to be dealt with.

But he didn't want to think of that now. He just needed to frag himself… something he might have to do on his onesy if Megatron didn't answer.

Taking in a deep vent of air he spread his legs farther, moaning at the thought of Megatron's form. He almost jumped when Megatron finally picked up.

"Its fraggen late… I was sure you got this number a day ago," grumbled the warlord, probably waken from his recharge.

Chuckling, not the least bit turned off by the other's gruff mood, the younger mech smiled as he began his adult game.

"So tell me Megatron… what are you wearing?" said Sunstreaker, smiling slightly as he imaged Megatron looking down at himself.

Megatron, looking down at his form, frowned and stated, "My usual grey armor, if you call that wearing anything… Did you fall and hit your head or something?"

Yeah … this wasn't going to be an easy conversation.

XXX

Paw07: I promised you guys some action … and some phone sex. I do hope you enjoyed it. I'm sure Sunny and Meg's did. Unfortunately … this is the censored version so you really didn't get any of that, did you? You know how to get there, links on my profile page. XD


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